Miracles
by ColieMacKenzie
Summary: Harm and Mac deserve some miracles! Starts directly after The Four Percent Solution, but will venture along its own romantic path from there. Chapter 9 added!
1. Ch1: The Pain that We're Used To

**Miracles **

Picks up after Macs accident in The Four Percent Solution. Does not follow the rest of the season 10 plot line.

A/N: It is possible that updates might take a while for this story (as well as – still – for Once Upon A Chilly Night, sorry!), as I am literally swamped with school work. So I hope you'll still enjoy what I write, even if it takes a while.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no money out of my ramblings.

_Heart-felt thanks to Staz - for everything! _

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Chapter 1: **The Pain That We're Used To**

Pain flooded her body, causing her to wake from an already restless sleep. Mac groaned and slowly tried to ply open her eyes, for a moment not quite knowing where she was and where the pain came from. Even her face was hurting.

Then she realized that her right hand was captured, held in place and gently stroked by a warm presence. She felt the warmth spread up her arm, then through her entire body. Instant comfort. Without even seeing - she hadn't quite managed to open her eyes completely yet and the room was plunged into darkness - she simply knew that it was him. Only he was able to communicate to her this sense of calm in a crisis situation. Ever so gradually, the memory of her accident returned. He had come, and he had stayed.

"Harm?" she whispered. She felt him lean closer, felt him looking at her, felt his piercing blue stare filled with concern.  
"Thank you for staying with me... and I don't just mean tonight."

She wanted to tell him so much more, but for now, she was too exhausted to even think, let alone speak clearly. She could only hope that his staying with her meant that their friendship still had a chance, a friendship that meant the world to her, that had been her anchor in life for the last eight years, but that she had deliberately destroyed.

Yes, she had been the one that pushed him away, even though in her heart of hearts, she had realized that he was finally ready to let go. Why she had acted and reacted that way, she still hadn't completely figured out. Only the realization remained that it was too late for a relationship; she had hurt Harm too much. But she would opt for friendship; that would be better than losing him altogether. She felt him even closer now, and then he was softly stroking her head, his strength seeping through her. She drifted off to sleep again.

Harm kept sliding his hands over her hair even though he felt that she had already gone back to sleep. Yet he wanted to make sure she'd stay asleep for a while, not to mention that touching her was the only way right now for him to truly grasp that she was still alive. It was anything short of a miracle. The thought almost made him chuckle. 'It is Christmas, after all,' he thought to himself, 'what better time for a miracle than that?'

o o o o o

When she awoke the next morning, Mac already felt better; some of the physical pain having lessened over night - until she realized that Harm was gone. Disappointment and loneliness washed over her, hurting almost more than her battered body. Her strong reaction took her by surprise; after all, she had come through worse in her life and prided herself on her independence, her ability to deal with anything on her own.

_'Well, fat lot of good that has done me,_' she thought to herself, _'now I need a therapist, I hardly ever manage to sleep through a night, I've never had a _meaningful_ long-term relationship, and I've effectively managed to alienate the only person in my life that has always been there for me.'_

She hated to admit it, but talking with the therapist had helped. Only now was she able to see how much of her current condition was her fault, how her inability to confide in anybody had kept her from experiencing real closeness with another person. Harm had come close, at times. Yet most of the time either her or him or both of them had shied away from the truly emotional topics, had opted for evasive or cryptic answer or even outright lies.

It was time to actively master her life again, she realized, instead of just feeling like an outside spectator that was merely looking onto what was happening but never quite realizing that any of it was actually happening to her. Resolve manifested itself, and she said into the empty hospital room: "Enough. Enough now."

Harm did come back a little while later, only having left her to bring her some coffee from her favorite coffee shop - and a Christmas tree! It was the tiniest and cheesiest fake Christmas tree she had ever seen, completely decorated with yellow lights and mini candy canes. It was also the sweetest and most thoughtful gift she had gotten in a long time. Leave it to Harm to go out of his way to do something so simple yet so amazing for someone he knew needed cheering up. The little thing was now sitting on the nightstand, happily twinkling. Harm had left to spend a couple of hours of Christmas day with Mattie, who was at her dad's. He was reluctant to leave, but she had told him to go. She knew how much the girl meant to him, and vice versa. No point in ruining everybody's Christmas because of a couple of bruises!

The doctor stopped by a little while later. He checked her through, then told her that she could actually go home the next day, no point in staying at the hospital, all she needed was some time for her bruises to heal. However, she would need somebody to bring her home and stay with her for a bit, whether she had anybody? What was she supposed to answer to that? Maybe she still had her best friend? Could she ask him to do that for her? She didn't know… Or maybe she did.

o o o o o

Many a boring hour later Harm returned.

"So, I've heard you may go home tomorrow?" he asked before she could even get a word out.  
"Doctor told me that I may take you home and settle you in and take good care of you! That okay with you?"

There it was, a trace of his flyboy smile, a bit reluctant still but there nevertheless. She couldn't tell whether he wanted to do it or just felt compelled to, but she was not going to argue it.

"That would be great, thanks Harm." Ouch, face definitely still hurt when she tried to smile.

"But in that case, I'm sending you home to get a decent night's sleep tonight instead of in an uncomfortable hospital chair, and you may pick me up tomorrow."

He made his way around the hospital bed and settled into the same position he was in last night.

"Ok, ninja girl, I promise I'll go home later, but just now I'm going to sit here until you fall asleep."

He leaned forward, and with his right hand gently stroked the left side of her face, his thumb gently running over her cheek, as if to wipe away her tears, just like he had done the few times she had allowed herself to cry since she'd known him. At first, crying in front of him had embarrassed her, she was a Marine after all, and she did not want to have that tough façade crumble. Yet how fast had she learned to trust him completely, had let him comfort her.

She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his caresses on her skin. Gradually, she felt the energy change, an almost palpable intimacy settling in. She moved her head slightly so her cheek was more firmly pressed against his hand. His stroking thumb left her cheekbone and traveled south, inching across the rim of her nose, closer and closer towards her mouth until it finally reached its corner.

Her breathing grew more labored; the tip of his thumb now intimately stroking across her bottom lip. She kept her eyes closed, not thinking, just concentrating on feeling everything that was poured into this moment. A soft moan escaped her.

The second it happened, she felt him tense up, his thumb stopped dead in its movement. Her eyes sprang open. She found herself gazing directly into his eyes; so close had he come that his face was hovering directly above hers. For what must have been mere seconds but felt like an eternity, they just remained like this; frozen in a moment too novel yet eerily familiar, scary yet full of promise.

Then, just as suddenly, it was over, him putting a safer distance between their bodies, her eyes breaking the contact. He cleared his throat.

"I should get going now."

"Yeah," was all she managed to croak.

"See you tomorrow at 0900?"

"Ok, sleep well," she whispered.

He turned around, started walking away, yet just before reaching the door, he looked back at her once more, his eyes intense, seemingly boring into her. "I'll try," he rasped, leaving her speech- and breathless.

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_TBC_


	2. Ch2: Learning to Lean On

**A/N:**_ For disclaimer, see chapter one._

**A/N:**_ A big heartfelt **Thank You** goes out to: Staz, JulieM, Sia, shron, SamBrace, zats, michelle UK, aserene, froggy0319, Lisa, Syrae, SEAL2, cbw, starryeyes10, judy52sa, VeraBell, and Leo, for your wonderful and encouraging reviews! It is very flattering that you all enjoy my story so far. I hope this next part will manage to live up to your expectations. I live to serve, lol! Of course, criticism will be appreciated as well. Enjoy! _

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**Chapter 2: Learning to Lean On**

Her inner clock registered him only 36 seconds late when he came to pick her up the next morning. This must have been close to a record for him, and a bantering comment had already formed on her tongue, yet she bit it back. She still felt too uneasy about the current state of their friendship, serving as a painful reminder about how much she missed the teasing quality their relationship had once had, and to what extent it had actually deteriorated. So she settled for a smile; at least what she considered a smile while her face still looked like a punching bag and she could feel how really, only the left corner of her mouth could actually do the required movement upward, the very same one he had so sensually caressed only last night. Remembering the moment made her tingle all over again, and she mentally chided herself for her adolescent behavior.

Harm found her dressed and ready to go, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was a rather high one, so her feet were up in the air and mindlessly dangling back and forth. Mac was dangling her feet? He didn't think he had ever seen her doing this, but it was endearing. Ever so crisply dressed in her uniform, but allowing this girlish part of her to shine through – a stark contrast if ever there was one. He was mesmerized. Yet as soon as she noticed that he had walked in, she automatically stopped the movement. He wondered whether she had even realized that she had been dangling her feet, or that she had stopped immediately upon his arrival. She smiled at him, well half of her smiled anyways. Albeit looking slightly improved as opposed to last night, her face was still swollen and red, and he hoped for her that it was less painful than what it looked like.

"Good Morning, ninja girl," he greeted her with a smile of his own, and while strolling into the room, he subconsciously wondered how it was that this very old nickname had resurfaced only recently yet still felt as familiar and fitting as ever.

"Hey, Harm." She was about to ask whether he slept well, but remembering how they had parted last night, she refrained from doing so.

"Thanks again for taking me home. I have been officially released already, so we can get going right away." By the time she had finished speaking, he had reached her side.

"Great, because I've actually got some breakfast for you in the car," he grinned at her, then cupped her elbow, urging her to get off the bed.

She slightly pushed herself up, the carefully hopped down. Still, when her feet reached the ground and her body followed the movement, he could feel her wince and held on a little more until she had steadied herself. He picked up her bag with his other hand, and kept guiding her by her elbow out of the room and along the hospital corridor.

She smiled to herself. He was being chivalrous, very gentlemanly, so very Harm, and she was letting him, was actually liking it very much. For the first time in a very long time, she saw a tiny ray of hope that the bond they had shared over the years, unacknowledged though it had stayed, was not irreparably damaged after all.

o o o o o

Her senses that had to endure the hospital smells for too long, were almost assaulted by the yeasty smell of fresh bagels and the strong aroma of the coffee that wafted out when Harm opened the car door for her. Yet she inhaled deeply, allowing the anticipation of a cup of fresh coffee and a good breakfast seep through her. It occurred to her how many of the little things in life she had stopped enjoying over the years.

She remembered the day at Cmdr. McCool's office, when she had finally realized how beautiful a day could be, and she had a similar sensation now. How had she let it come this far, losing touch with life to that extent? She felt like a cliché, like a character from a movie finally realizing, after having survived some sort of end-of-the-world catastrophe, how precious life really was. How sappy! Well, the accident had been scary, but she didn't even break any bones. There had been so many situations in her life that had been far more life-threatening than this.

"Mac, are you going to get in the car," Harm questioned, effectively pulling her out of her daydreaming, thank goodness.

"What? Yeah, sorry, I was lost in thought… It's just that after a few days with hospital food, this smells like heaven!" she smiled up at him, then carefully folded herself in the passenger seat.

They were driving mostly in silence, letting the radio fill the interior with soft background noise. From the corner of his eyes, Harm carefully tried observing her while driving. She seemed different, somehow. Her behavior was somewhat less distant now than it had been in the last months, but he felt she still wasn't 'with him' yet. Well, she also wasn't literally with him at all, but he had almost said goodbye to that hope over the last few months where, instead of them moving towards something, they had drifted farther and farther apart.

Her head was leaned back against the headrest, and with her eyes half-closed, she was mindlessly looking outside at the landscape fleeting past. He was relieved that she looked almost relaxed, but he still tried to drive more cautiously, worried that she might be tense being in a car again after her accident. Yet she seemed okay. Every once in a while she would inhale deeply, with an almost unnoticeable smile playing upon her lips. He thought he knew what that one was about.

"You know, Mac, if you want the coffee this badly, all you have to do is ask," he mocked her, cocking his eyebrows at her with a sideward glance.

This made her turn to look at him. She smiled, but chose to not return his mocking.

"Nope, I like looking forward to something now," she stated softly.

o o o o o

When they reached her apartment building, Harm hurried around the car to open the passenger door for her before she even had a chance to attempt the required movement. Having seen how slowly she still moved in the hospital, he could only imagine how sore she must feel after having been cramped into a car seat for a while. He opened the door as wide as possible and extended a hand towards her.

Only thinking about getting out of the car made Mac groan inwardly. She had felt much better when she had woken up this morning, but the moving around had quickly reminded her that she had been banged around pretty badly. Having had to sit for the drive now, plus the confinement of the seatbelt pressing painfully onto her bruised ribs, left her feeling powerless and slightly dizzy. She usually disliked looking weak in front of anybody, her Marine pride dictated her to be strong and prove herself in every situation. This was particularly true of Harm; she liked the idea that he would be thinking of her as a strong and capable person. Yet at this moment, it didn't seem to matter all that much anymore. In the short time span between Christmas Eve and now, it seemed that the balance between them had shifted, and she had yet to regain her footing.

She unbuckled her seatbelt, then turned around slightly and placed her hand in his. The moment she had done so, she felt his hand grasping hers tightly, his strength seemingly flowing through her again. Her breath caught in her throat as her arm started tingling and the warmth spread through her body. What was going on with her? Were her senses still oversensitive after the accident, and overreacting to every touch? Trying to rein in her emotions, she lifted her legs out of the car, then carefully put weight on them to get up, while he simultaneously pulled her up gently.

She was almost standing upright when a dizzy spell caught up with her, making her body sway and her knees buckle. Yet when she thought she would feel herself drop down, she didn't. Instead, she felt a strong arm snaking around her waist, felt how she was being held upright, then gently pulled into the direction of his strong body.

"I got you," his soothing voice whispered in her ear as her body slumped against his, "I got you now."

She felt drained; no energy seemed to be left in her body to make any kind of adjustments to her position. Nor did she want to; she hadn't felt this safe in a very long time. Her heart beat so rapidly that she was sure he must notice. But at this moment, she didn't care. Mac remained leaning against him, her face buried in his chest, inhaling his scent that made him so uniquely Harm. She still felt dizzy, but could not distinguish anymore whether that derived from her weakened body or from being so close to him. Mac hadn't even noticed that she had brought her other arm around his waist and held onto him firmly.

Harm tucked his chin on top of her head and held her closely. Mindful of her bruises, he had to resist the urge to pull her tightly against his body, when she felt so fragile in his arms. Always coming off as strong and capable, he was astounded by her slenderness. How would he have known any differently though, he realized, reflecting upon the fact that there really hadn't been too many occasions in the past when he had hugged her, and none in the recent past, despite what she had been or was still going through. He had tried giving her comfort in different ways, like by holding her hand, yet either one of them had seemingly shied away from more bodily contact. Now all he wanted was to make her pain go away, and not just the pain from her recent accident, but from all the crap that had come her way and that apparently spiraled her into a direction where she felt her only remedy was to shut herself off from everybody. He worried about her. He always did.

So for the time being, he decided on simply holding her as long as she needed. On its own accord, his hand that rested on her waist slowly began moving, tentatively circling her lower back, his fingertips applying gentle pressure so as not to hurt her. He could feel how her body became pliable, how she relaxed in his embrace, so he allowed himself to enjoy her closeness and the intimacy of this moment. Thus tightly intertwined, they formed a pillar of warmth on a cold and bleary December morning.

_TBC_

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**A/N:**_There was supposed to be more in chapter two, I had a plan what should have been in there! But to get to this point ended up taking more words than I intended, and this seemed like a nice place to stop. I hope you enjoyed this part! Chapter three will be up as soon as it is written, lol. I will do my best to accomplish that fast. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Ch3: A Lack of Color

**A/N:** For disclaimer, see chapter 1.

**A/N:** Thank you, BrookeUT, Staz, Minnybits, bluejay65, froggy0319, Syrae, starryeyes10, aserene, jaggurl, cbw, daisymh, VeraBell, michelleUK, CATZ-TX, live2rite, judy52sa, kathfire, and paddlerbck for all the wonderful reviews of chapter 2; and to everybody out there who is reading and quietly enjoying (hopefully)!

I hope you will like this part as this is moving slower than I had thought it would. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

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**Chapter 3: A lack of color**

Snow started falling, and a harsh and gusty wind picked up, haphazardly swirling the snowflakes around in the air, ruffling Mac's hair and chilling her at every part of her body that was not in close contact with Harm's strong frame.

It was almost a simultaneous movement when both of them, albeit reluctantly, broke their embrace. Slowly, the space between them grew, and the breeze invaded it, sending goose bumps up and down her front and making her shudder.

Harm became conscious of the fact that they must have been standing in the cold far longer than he had realized. She would probably know, down to the second, how long it had been – her inner clock still managed to amaze him, even after nine years. But it was impossible for him to speak; he still felt overwhelmed from their embrace, flooded by manifold feelings he was incapable to identify. Something seemed to happen to them all of a sudden that he felt he had no control over. Feelings reappeared that he had thought he had successfully buried. Instead, they had merely been hiding under the surface, to well up again at the slightest encouragement.

He let go of her hand, yet his other arm remained around her waist as he guided her away from the car, afraid she might fall and even more afraid she might slip away from him again.

Thus they made their way towards her building and up the flights of stairs leading to her apartment.

To Mac, it seemed like his strong arm was the only thing keeping her upright, that and the thought of her bed or her couch to sink onto. She still hadn't recovered from the onslaught of emotions that had rolled through her when he had held her so close, and in combination with her battered body, she was exhausted.

He held her purse for her while she rummaged through it, trying to find her keys, then found them and unlocked her door. It was when it swung open that Harm got his next shock.

His heart constricted. "_Oh Mac,_" he sighed to himself.

"Harm, are you coming in?" Mac called to him. Only now did he realize that she had already made it over to her couch and had sat down, while he was still routed to the spot in her door frame staring into space.

"Yes… I mean, actually… I should run back downstairs… get your bag and our breakfast… We left it in the car…" His thoughts were still reeling and he welcomed the chance to get himself back in control.

"I'll be right back," he rasped, then turned and practically fled the apartment.

Back downstairs, he ripped open the front door, ignoring the icy blast whirling around him. Almost defeated, he sank against the doorframe, in dire need of a couple of deep breaths.

Seeing her apartment had shocked him to the core. It had always been so beautifully decorated during Christmas time, but now it looked just like it did any day of the year. No Christmas tree, no candles, no decorations at all.

Since he had known her, he had loved to come over around Christmas and had done so at some point every year. Her place had been emanating a warmth that drew him in and to her. Her Christmas tree was always huge, almost reaching up to the ceiling, and more than once he had come over to help her drag it up to her apartment and get it to stay upright. She'd only use white lights, never the colored ones, and the final decorated creation was spectacular. Even when they weren't on their best of terms, she'd always had a gift for him under her tree.

It was such a unique part of her; yet another layer to this amazing and complex woman. She probably never had an elaborate Christmas during her childhood nor any loving memories of that time of year that would explain her clinging to the tradition. Yet every year, she made everything beautiful and _meaningful_ for herself, subsequently managing to impart a Christmassy spirit onto the people surrounding her as well.

But this year, she hadn't, and the implications of it made his insides clench. It was like she had lost herself over the last, what was it, weeks, months, or even years?

It's not like he hadn't noticed the changes in her. But he had attributed them to her needing some time to handle and accept the reality of her illness as well as the end of her last relationship, and that she'd gradually get better. But now he doubted that she could do this on her own. She had wanted space, and consequently he had backed off, but clearly, that hadn't worked.

Yet after all that had happened, after all their ups and downs, he still considered Mac his best friend. He wished she was more, he might as well admit it to himself. He wished for them to become a family somehow, but at this point, he was clueless as to when she would be ready, or if she ever would. He wasn't going to push her in that direction anymore. But he was going to be there for her again, as her friend, so she could come back from wherever it was that she seemed to have retreated to. Yes, he determined, no more 'giving her space,' because that had certainly backfired.

With this new resolve, Harm made his way to his car to retrieve their things.

o o o o o

Mac was relieved when he came back. He had seemed out of sorts all of a sudden before he headed downstairs, and she had gotten worried when it had taken him much longer than it should have to go down to the car and come back up. Even though she could not imagine him leaving just like that, a part of her was still afraid that he wouldn't come back.

Yet here he was. Holding up the paper bag with the bagels, he smiled at her as if nothing had happened, and she released the breath that she had unintentionally been holding.

"Hungry?", he asked, then headed towards the kitchen as if the question had been a rhetorical one. Well, might as well have been; she really _was_ hungry, she realized.

Even though every part of her body complained, she still heaved herself off the couch once more and headed towards the bedroom.

"I'll just quickly change into something more comfy," she announced in the general direction of the kitchen, craving the feel of clothing that would wrap her up warmly and not twinge or constrict her anywhere.

When she came back, clad in a pair of sweatpants, a hooded sweatshirt, and the thickest pair of socks she owned, she found her living room basked in the warmth and the flickering light of a crackling fire in the fireplace, and breakfast – or given the hour it was by now – lunch laid out on her coffee table.

"I wanted to make sure you wouldn't be cold," Harm said, pointing towards the fireplace, "and I thought you'd prefer eating in here so you can sit more comfortably on the couch…"

"That was a great idea, thanks," she smiled at him, then settled back onto the couch while he took the armchair.

Thus began their day together. He did not ask, she did not wonder; he simply stayed.

While they enjoyed their breakfast, they talked about work, the Roberts family, and Harm filled her in on how Mattie was doing. Again, Mac found herself admiring what a wonderful father he had become, particularly in light of the fact that he had to let the girl return to her father even though it broke his heart, but knowing that this was what was best for _Mattie_.

Not that she was surprised; deep down she had known for a long time that he would be a natural at fatherhood, which probably went a long way with her agreeing to their baby deal so many years back. Immediately, the overwhelming sadness tried to overtake her again, but she pushed it away. She would not be the one to give Harm the blue-eyed children she had always envisioned, but it was pointless to dwell on it any longer. It was time to come to terms with reality, instead of letting it overtake her life and drag her down as it had done for the past months. It was simply too late, but life had to go on, _somehow_…

So she took a deep breath and concentrated on Harm, listening to his soothing voice, the smile that shone through when he recounted Mattie's last flight lesson, the way fine crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes, a sign of maturity making him so much more attractive in her eyes, or the way his long legs looked stuck under her coffee table. And ever so slowly, the sadness dissipated, and contentedness settled in its place.

Not allowing her to get up, he cleared the table after their breakfast, then flipped on the TV. They decided on the "North and South" marathon that ran on one of the cable channels. Harm had to admit that, while most of the storylines involving the main characters and their surrounding families were quite soap opera-ish in his opinion, he found himself enjoying the movies, especially the historic details intertwined in the plot and the depiction of military life. He settled more comfortably into the chair, stretching his legs out further, and glanced at Mac whom he found no longer sitting, but laying cuddled up on the couch, her knees drawn up, her hands stacked under her cheek, and intently watching the movie.

About halfway through the second movie, he noticed that she had fallen asleep. She looked so peaceful. He rose and got a blanket from her linen closet. Gently, he draped it over her, pulled it up to her shoulders, then slowly tucked the edges in around her body so as not to wake her.

Crouching down next to the couch, he once again found himself simply watching her sleep. Her body softly rose and fell with every breath, and her hair cascaded around her face in soft waves. He liked her with longer hair. She also looked beautiful with her shorter cuts, no doubt about it, as she had the most graceful neck he had ever seen. But there was just something about a woman and long hair, how it slid through one's fingers…

'_Don't go there, Rabb,'_ he chided himself, yet couldn't help reaching his hand up to her head. He ran his index finger across her forehead, gently swiping away a few stray strands that had fallen across, then over her temple and down the curve of her cheek, sliding away all the hair that must be tickling her, or so he made the excuse for himself. Yet his fingertip burned from the contact with her skin, the rest of his fingers twitching from the need to feel her. As his finger traveled just past her earlobe and down her neck, he felt her squirm ever so slightly, and he immediately stopped his ministrations. Yet she did not wake up, but merely sighed and settled more deeply into the couch cushions.

Registering his legs protesting to his crouched position, he got back up, shut off the TV and, armed with the Sunday newspaper, settled back into the armchair.

When she woke up, the room was quiet, save for the irregular crackling of the fire. She turned her head slightly and he was still there, reading the paper. Trying not to make a sound, she basked in the moment that presented itself. He looked good in her chair, in her living room. This was how she had always imagined domestic life to be – simply being together on a Sunday; each of them perfectly comfortable with just doing their own thing, but in each other's company.

It was when he turned a page that he noticed she was awake. "Hey," she smiled up at him, almost shyly; only her head was turned in his direction while she was still lying down. There weren't very many moments he could recount having seen her shy, but this was one of them.

"Hey yourself, did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I'm even feeling a bit better than I have this morning," she nodded. Her eyes locked with his.

"Good." For a long moment, all they did was looking at each other, soft smiles playing upon their faces. Sometimes, in brief moments such as this, everything seemed so simple between them when the world became a mere backdrop and they found contentment only in each other. Yet inevitably, the earth would continue moving, and the spell would be broken.

_TBC_

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**A/N:** Maybe I should mention that I also do not own any part of 'North and South' either – is anybody else remembering these movies apart from me:-) For me, this series has sort of become a Christmas tradition as well, since in Germany, it has been shown numerous times, often broadcasted during the weeks leading up to Christmas, and I have always watched it… so now you know how it popped into my twisted mind at this point.

The next chapter is in the works as we speak and if all goes well, the next update should be quicker. However, I can't make any promises…


	4. Ch4: Battling Ships

**A/N:** For general disclaimer, see chapter one.

**A/N:** I do not own the game Battleship. Well, ok, I do own one. Oh this is confusing. Anyways, I just hope everybody is familiar with the game, and this chapter won't be confusing.

**A/N:** Thank you for all your wonderful reviews! They are what keep me going! In that spirit, please let me know what you think, it is greatly appreciated, whether it be encouragement or criticism. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 4: Battling Ships**

"E 7. Mac, can I ask you a question?" Harm tentatively approached while they were musing over a game of Battleship later that afternoon. He had chosen the game, giving her ammunition to tease him with the fact that of course, it had to be the, as stated on the box, 'classic naval combat game' for him, which in turn made him mock her with the fact that she, the Marine, even owned it.

His careful and serious tone of voice brought her head up. So far, they had been sticking to safe topics all day, neither of them willing to endanger the tender bond they seemed to have rebuilt. Given their history, it was their standard M.O., as talking almost invariably lead to misunderstandings, at least when it came to matters of their relationship.

Trying to collect herself for whatever there was to come, she consulted her game.

"Miss," she announced, and placed a white peg on the top part of the game unit.

"Sure, go ahead. B 3."

Phew, not even close. She had already found four of his ships so far, while he was lagging far behind.

"Miss," he announced, placed his peg, and continued.

"Mac, why didn't you put up any Christmas decorations this year? H 9."

She definitely didn't see _that_ one coming. Suddenly she knew with clarity that this must have been what had caused his odd reaction when they had entered her apartment that morning.

How could she even start explaining to him what she was feeling? Did she even know _herself_ what she was feeling? A tidal wave of conflicting thoughts once again crashed over her, trying to drown her, and her immediate reaction was wanting to get away, hide, run.

No! She had resolved to get her life under control again, however hard it was going to be. She fought through the onslaught of emotions, aware that he was looking at her intensely, waiting.

Once again, she momentarily concentrated on the game, and picked up another white peg.

"Miss." Trying to put on a brave front, she lifted her eyes to his. He looked at her with an expression so pained, his brows furrowed and his forehead creased, that she winced inwardly.

"It just didn't feel like Christmas this year," she started, then sighed, trying to get her thoughts in a coherent order. She averted her eyes and stared into the licking flames in the fireplace.

"I realized that all these years, I had celebrated the holiday in anticipation of one day celebrating it with my own family. And now I know that this'll never happen; I will never have a baby of my own and the sadness is just… overwhelming…" She had to fight the tears that threatened to well up, but she didn't want to cry, she wanted to get through this now.

"I hadn't realized how important it is to me to actually bear a child, and, I don't know, all the emotions just build up, and I can't face them. Decorating a tree suddenly seemed so pointless, so fake…" At this, she dropped her head, musing whether this was the crux of what she needed to say. It was what she felt, yet it didn't seem to cover all of it, and the words didn't manage to transpire the emotions that had been coursing through her. Trying to compose herself, she concentrated on her game, and added "Oh, C 4," after a short pause.

In a way, what she had just said was more or less what he had suspected. But he couldn't help but feel hurt about the fact that she hadn't approached him at all during the last couple of months. He had trouble understanding, especially after their talk during the Admiral's Dining Out, as painful as that had been, why she did not seek him out at all, at least to talk. And what was that about a family never happening for her? Hadn't he offered her exactly that?

Dropping his gaze to his game, he tried to process all she had just revealed and what to do about it.

"Hit," he grumbled; she had found his carrier. "D 7," he continued.

"Why couldn't you tell me?" Realizing that this was dangerous territory, he tried to erase all accusatory undertones and simply sound supportive.

"I offered to be there for you. You don't need to take on everything on your own, that's what friends are for."

"Miss," he heard her say after a short pause, momentarily distracted by the fact that she might win at his Navy game.

"I tried. C 5."

"When?" And then it hit him – the evening she had come over, with seemingly no purpose, only to find Alicia having dinner with him at his apartment. Oh no.

"Ah, hit," he fumbled, not quite sure how to sail past that cliff. He remembered vividly how the hopeful expression on her face had crumbled and crushed at the sight of Alicia at his place. Subconsciously, he had the feeling that there was a greater importance to this visit, but at the time, he didn't know how to react, as it happened oh so often between the two of them. Nevertheless, he had felt guilty at the time, and now he felt even guiltier. What must she have been thinking about him? He had sat there, on the Admiral's porch, holding her hand, promising her to always be there, claiming to want to be a part of her life, and then went out with other women right in front of her!

"I'm sorry about that, Mac. I didn't realize…," but she waved him off.

"No, it's okay Harm, really. Ultimately, it worked out for the best. And it's your turn."

His head snapped up, not knowing what to make of her last statement. "What do you mean?"

She gestured at the game boards.

"No, I mean, how did it work out for the best? What happened?" She didn't meet anybody else, did she? She couldn't! In compliance with her gesture, he then quickly scanned his game. "G 9."

"Hit," she stated, then brought her head up to look at him, deciding that it was time to tell him.

"The next day, I had an impromptu session with my former therapist. I was quite resistant, at first, but we ended up working through some of my issues. As much as I wanted to talk to you, I realize now that someone impartial was a better idea. C 6."

At this, Harm didn't know anymore what he was feeling. Was he relieved that she had finally been seeking help, or upset about the fact that it hadn't been him helping her? Probably both, he gathered.

"Hit." He placed a peg.

"I'm glad you went, really glad. Seeing you over the last couple of months, watching you retreat from everybody… well, it had me worried… But I knew that pressuring you to talk to me would not work…" At this, his eyes dropped, staring intently at his game as if he could find the answers he so desperately needed there.

"I just wish I could have been there for you, you know, helped you some more. Mac, I feel like I've let you down…"

This was the last thing she had wanted, for him to feel guilty. She hesitated at first, but then followed her immediate instinct and cradled one of his strong hands in both of her smaller ones.

"Harm, you _didn't_," she emphasized while her thumbs drew circles on the back of his hand. The motion managed to draw him out of his reverie, and he looked up at her only to lose himself in the chocolate brown depths of her eyes that were directed at him. Their gazes locked.

"A part of me knew that you'd always be there for me, no matter what. But I just couldn't…" She was fumbling for the right words to say, but it was almost impossible to frame all her conflicting emotions into a few sentences.

"I thought I had to get through this on my own, just like I had taught myself to do since battling my alcoholism. Prove to myself that I could deal with anything on my own… Not lay my emotional baggage at somebody else's feet…" That wasn't all of it, of course; it was never all of it.

And Harm knew it. Looking at her intensely, he could sense that there was more, but that she was not capable of acknowledging it to him yet. And suddenly he realized that that was okay, for now. They had covered quite some ground and, given their history, it was miraculous that they had gotten through an intense and personal conversation without saying anything hurtful to the other. Must be the game, he thought; musing over the next move seemed to have served as a respite, allowing them to take time to think things through before blurting out anything that would only hurt the other.

She was still holding his hand captive, her warmth and proximity making his fingertips tingle.  
Yet he also felt she had tensed up, as her hands had stopped moving and were grasping onto his while she waited for his acknowledgement.

"I understand, Mac. It's your coping mechanism, and you reacted in a way you thought would be best for you." Then he smiled at her, trying to wave away the tension.

"And now, I think, it is still my turn!" He grinned, nodding towards the game. She let go of his hands, and while he mourned the loss of her contact, he was graced with a tender smile reappearing on her lips. "How about F 9?"

"Hit. I'm going to continue with the therapy, by the way." She thought he deserved to know, hoping it would somewhat dispel his feelings of guilt if he knew she was seeking help. "C 7. Harm, can I ask you a question now?"

"Hit. Go ahead. E 9."

"Miss." There was something she really needed to know, even though it should be none of her business. Yet if the answer was 'no,' then maybe she could make herself believe that four percent were worthy odds after all.

"Are you dating Alicia?"

"No," came his instant reply. There was no hesitation in his voice, and she finally allowed her eyes to travel upwards to look at him. He was gazing at her intently, as if willing her to believe him.

"We had a few dinners together, all related to work. I think she might have wanted more, but she isn't who I want." There was only one woman for him; there had been only one for him for the longest time now.

The implications of what he had just said hit her full force, rendering her practically speechless. There it was, her ray of hope.

"I'm glad." It was all her jumbled mind could conjure up as a response, an incredibly inept one even to her own ears, yet it was the essence of it all. She _was_ glad. She felt a slight blush creep onto her cheeks, and was hoping that between her beat-up cheek and the flickering light in the room her embarrassment would remain hidden.

She looked up at him, finding a soft smile on his face that matched her own. For a moment, all that could be heard in the room was the crackling wood in the fireplace. Ever so slowly, contentment settled in.

"Continue," he said next, winking at her while his hands gestured towards their game.

"Hmm," she mused, "C 3?"

"Hit and sink," he grumbled playfully, only to watch her do a little happy dance, comically waggling her arms in the air, celebrating her success at sinking the Navy big time.

"Well, Sailor, that was a pretty pitiful performance," she teased, "maybe you need another round at Annapolis, learn what it's all about to keep your boats afloat!"

"Ha ha, very funny, Mac," he groused, yet his grin remained firmly in place. He couldn't deflect from the fact that he did find it amusing. He had really enjoyed himself, but it was even more important to him that she had. He hadn't seen her happy in quite a while.

He observed her as she started packing up the game boards. Her movements were still slow and deliberate, and she stifled a yawn. She hadn't complained once all day, but he was sure that she must be sore. She needed rest, and it had gotten late.

"I should head home now; you need to get some sleep." He rose from his chair, summoning up the mental strength to leave now when all he wanted was for this peaceful day to never end.

"Do you want me to fill the General in on what has happened and your condition tomorrow, or do you want to call him yourself?"

Right, she had almost forgotten that tomorrow was Monday; he had to get back to work and she needed to get some sick leave. The last days seemed somewhat surreal to her, as if she was suddenly far removed from the life she had led only three days ago. At this moment, she would have given anything to be wrapped up in Harm's strong arms, embraced much like it had happened only this morning, and not having him let go of her until the next morning, or preferably not ever again. Despite her Marine façade, on the inside, she didn't feel strong at all.

She rose as well, and walked him to the door.

"If you could give him a heads-up in the morning when you get in, that would be great. I will call later myself, but this way, he won't need to wonder why I don't show up."

When they reached the door, he grasped the doorknob and opened the door a wedge, then turned around, coming face to face with her.

"Thank you for today, Harm." She felt as if in just a few hours, they had managed to somewhat revive their friendship from the comatose state it had been in for the last few months at least. "Maybe from now on, we should have all our important conversations over a game of Battleship?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "that certainly worked wonders for us." He flashed a smile at her, a genuine Harmon Rabb smile that seeped right into her belly and made her knees go weak. Almost in disbelief, she watched as his face came closer and closer to hers.

With infinite care, he placed a tender kiss on her left cheek, the one that wasn't battered from the airbag. Her skin continued to tingle from the brief contact with his lips even when he had already pulled back.

"I hope you feel better tomorrow," he said softly, then turned around and walked out into the hallway.

Almost in disbelief, she watched as his tall form moved down the hallway, farther and farther away from her with every step he took. And suddenly, she heard it in her head – Cmdr. McCool's voice, urging her on: 'Create opportunities… create opportunities… create opportunities…'

"Harm!"

Upon hearing her voice, he turned around, a questioning look on his face.

"Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow? I probably won't go to the store to get food, and I'm not much of a cook, as you well know…" she rambled on, kneading her hands in a fruitless effort to disperse her nervousness, "but I'm good at ordering in, so if you are up to it, we could hang out… I mean I could use the company, after a day alone… But only if you want to-"

His "Okay" finally broke her monologue.

"Sure," he emphasized, giving her another smile. "See you tomorrow," he said, before he headed down the stairs.

_TBC_


	5. Ch5: Sugar Bubbles

**AN:** For general disclaimer, see chapter one.

**AN:** I'm really sorry for the long wait on this chapter - in fact, I hope there are people left that are actually reading this:-) I had a huge writer's block with this chapter, and now I just hope it was worth the long wait... The next updates should be quicker again (not daily, but not too long a wait either), as I have a few more chapters written... Please enjoy, and let me know what you think; it's very much appreciated!

o o o o o o

**Chapter 5: Sugar Bubbles**

Sighing, Harm took yet another file from the seemingly never-decreasing pile on his desk. All he had been doing since he got in this morning was paperwork. Nothing much going on between Christmas and New Year's. The office was quiet and appeared rather empty; at least half the staff had taken this week off. No real distractions to stop his mind from wandering, rethinking and mulling over every moment spent with Mac over the last two days, every sentence spoken, every little touch shared. And of the last couple of months.

How sad and defeated she had looked sitting on the beach at Manderlee, and there was nothing he could have done to help her at that point. He'd been careful about approaching her ever since. It seemed that she wanted time; that she needed to work through her issues on her own. He finally understood that. But it had broken his heart a little every time he saw her look so miserable and broken; something he had never expected to happen to his kick-ass Marine.

And unfortunately, over the years, he himself had caused her a lot of heartache as well. There was nothing he could do to change the past, but he hoped he had finally learned from his mistakes. She had always been there for him over the years, and he had pushed her away repeatedly. Then, when he finally believed he was ready, he was surprised it wasn't yielding the results he so selfishly had expected. It took a lot of anguish for him to accept where he had gone wrong over the years. Now, even though he had made clear that he was waiting for her, Mac had retreated from rather than leaning onto him. Considering that, he had been pretty sure they had missed their chance to become something more. And even though this understanding broke his heart, it was no reason not to be there for her anyway. They had been best friends for so long; he hoped they still were and could revive this special connection that had always existed between them. She deserved his unconditional support.

And then her accident happened, and the last two days happened, and he was no longer sure whether these insights he had so painfully worked out for himself still held true. When he held her hand at the hospital bed, it felt like a beginning. When he touched her, caressed her face, it felt electric. When he held her in his arms, it felt right. He still didn't know what she wanted, yet her reactions over the past two days had been vastly different from her behavior before and he couldn't help but feel hopeful that maybe, just maybe, the possibility of more still existed. She said she liked looking forward to something now, and he allowed himself to believe she didn't only talk about her cup of coffee. And, for the first time actually, they managed to hold an important conversation about their feelings without retreating from or misunderstanding the other. He felt… encouraged.

He shook himself out of his reverie, realizing he had spent at least half an hour staring at the same page, his thoughts a mile away. Looking at his watch, he found that it was past four in the afternoon already. It was pretty useless to stay much longer; he didn't get anything done as it was. All he thought about was Mac, and that he was going to see her again tonight. For now, he was just going to take things one day, one get-together at a time. Maybe he should cook dinner? She wouldn't have been able to go to the store, or at least he hoped the stubborn woman hadn't attempted to go to the store. She always appreciated good food, and she deserved some serious pampering. His mind made up, he closed the file in front of him, shut everything off and headed out, already planning a menu in his mind.

o o o o o o

Mac sighed blissfully, sliding deeper into the bathtub. The hot water was just what her bruised body needed, and to really indulge, she had added Warm Vanilla Sugar scented bubble bath to the water, so that fragrant bubbles now completely immersed her. A hot chocolate was waiting for her on the rim of the tub.

She had slept surprisingly well that night and felt somewhat better when she finally awoke in the morning, much later than was usually her habit. Her day had been spent cuddling on the couch with a newspaper or watching TV, interspersed by a nap after lunch because she was tired again. When she moved, she was still shuffling around rather slowly, but she could feel that her body was gradually recovering from its injuries. Her face was still a sight to behold though. So she decided on a bath to give her aching body a respite.

And all day long, no matter what she had done, Harm had been on her mind. She felt ridiculously giddy about seeing him again tonight. Objectively thinking, this could almost be considered a date. He came over for dinner, without their usual added excuse of work. But she didn't allow herself to go that far. She had decided that she would be satisfied to regain his friendship, and she was sticking to it. Having spent yesterday together made her realize how much she had actually missed him, his presence in her life. She had been in love with him for so long that she wasn't all that surprised how quickly his touch could overwhelm her again. She would be, had to be able to hide her true feelings, just like she always had.

She sipped on her hot chocolate, then placed it back on the rim and leaned back in the tub, closing her eyes. It was as if she could still feel his fingertips on her cheeks, her lips; his arms around her, his strong chest against her cheek when she was cradled in his embrace. Right now, she just wanted to indulge in her thoughts of him. She wanted to ignore her problems and all the reasons why they couldn't be together. She let her mind wander, remembering his touch. How would it have felt if he kissed her, his lips on hers, warm and tender, mindful of her bruises? She thought back to another passionate kiss, shared on a porch all those years ago, and her memories mixed and mingled with her hopes and dreams. How it would feel again to have his tongue seeking entrance, dancing with hers. To have his warmth around her, his hands gliding through her hair. To drape her hands around his neck, pulling him close, closer…

"Mac?" At the sound of his voice, she shot up out of the bathtub, grabbing onto the rim to hold her steady. Not paying attention, her arm swept the heavy mug off the rim. It smashed onto the tiles of the bathroom floor, chocolate spilling everywhere, and shattered into a million pieces, the tinkling sounds loudly echoing through her bathroom. _What_ was Harm doing at her apartment already? She had hardly finished the thought when the bathroom door swung open.

o o o o o o

With a grocery bag in his arm, Harm had knocked repeatedly without getting a response. It was almost six o'clock; she had invited him over, so where was she? She hadn't actually attempted to leave her apartment, had she, tackling three flights of stairs, twice? Or did something happen? Had she fallen, hurt herself more? He knocked once more, actually banged on the door, with no result. Then he took out his key ring where he still carried a spare to her door; a key she had given him years ago to take care of something while she was TAD and probably didn't even remember he had. Oh well, desperate times and all, he made the excuse for himself, and unlocked the door.

The lights were on inside, so she had to be somewhere. More worried now that something might have happened, he yelled her name, "Mac?" A loud crash and the sounds of something breaking forcefully were the only response he got, and it came from the bathroom. Oh God, had she slipped in the shower or something? He raced towards the bathroom and ripped open the door.

The sight that greeted him made his heart beat almost out of his chest. A mountain of bubbles, and a flustered Mac immersed in it. A very _naked_, flustered Mac, gripping the rim of her tub like a lifeline. A warm and humid sugary-sweet smell permeated the room, assailing his senses, and combining with the overwhelming intensity of this passion, this desire between them that had always been there, simmering under the surface, toned down or ignored by both of them in unspoken acceptance.

Mac sat motionless, frozen in her last movement when he marched into the doorway, seemingly larger than life. All she could do was stare at him, her mind a blank, unable to even check how much of her might not be covered by the soapy suds and revealed to his riveting stare. His eyes held her captive with such blazing intensity that it constricted her chest, stealing her breath. Memories assaulted her, memories of a moment when they had found each other in exactly the same situation, yet everything felt different about it now. Back then, she had tried to quip her way through the situation in a vain attempt of covering her embarrassment – and arousal. Gone now was the desperation she had read on his face when he had told her she was beautiful in that hotel room in Paraguay, before everything had completely fallen apart around them. She thought she must be melting under his powerful stare, and suddenly, nothing about it felt like merely friendship anymore.

Harm kept his eyes from straying, instead focusing on her face, her incredibly beautiful face, surrounded by curly strands of her hair, darker now and glistening since they were wet. From the periphery of his eyes he was aware that lots more of her was uncovered than she probably realized, and even though every fiber of his being screamed at him to take a peek, he didn't. He couldn't do that to her, and he couldn't do it to himself. He knew that if he looked, it would never be enough, and he was almost afraid of the force that could be unleashed in this one, powerful moment.

A cold draft swept into the bathroom through the wide-opened door, crawling over her wet skin like ice-cold fingers. Involuntarily, her body shivered, although she couldn't have said whether it was the chill that made her tremble or the overwhelming force of his eyes on her. The almost unnoticeable movement was enough to break the spell they had cast around themselves, yet they had a hard time recovering.

"The cup…," she clumsily pointed to the floor, "it fell." In any other moment, the inarticulateness of her words would have made her laugh, but it was all she could make her constricted lungs press out. He suddenly turned around and vanished, leaving her troubled and confused, and the door open. Sliding deep into the tub, hiding from the draft, and feeling ridiculously self-conscious, she tried to take a couple of deep breaths to calm her racing heart. It was all for naught though; he was back within a mere minute, armed with a role of paper towels and a wet rag. His eyes immediately sought out hers again while he walked closer, and closer, and closer…

When he had seen the broken cup, and his foggy brain had slowly been getting back to working order, he had realized this mess needed to be cleaned up so she wouldn't step on any shards of ceramic when getting out of the tub. So he headed, almost ran, out of the bathroom and to her kitchen. It was a flight, really. A short respite to get a grip on his raging feelings, this burning out-of-control need that had momentarily claimed all of his senses, rendering him immobile. Yet these feelings, they weren't merely about need, want or desire though. The moment had been more powerful than anything he had ever experienced before in his life and had swept through him with such life-altering force that he suddenly knew, if they didn't work things out this time, he wouldn't recover. But what about her?

He had gathered cleaning supplies and went back to the bathroom. She had slid deeper down in the tub, with only her head sticking out of the piles of bubbles now. His eyes transmitted a silent apology for invading her privacy a second time, as he still didn't seem to be able to speak a single word.

She accepted what he tried to tell her, not that he'd have needed to apologize in the first place, since she had been the klutz that had caused the situation that needed the clean-up now. When he reached her, he dropped down and started wiping up the sticky liquid. She turned her head to watch him as he then meticulously picked up every shard of ceramic littering the floor, unable to take her eyes off every movement made by his nimble fingers. When he had mopped the tiles completely clean, he got up, grabbed another large towel from a shelf and spread it out in front of the bathtub.

"So you won't cut yourself," he finally uttered. He hadn't looked at her when he cleaned the floor, but now his eyes found hers once more.

"What are you doing here?" She burst out, and immediately realized that this question could be taken all sorts of ways, most of them negative. And sure enough, a myriad of emotion spread across his face, finally settling on hurt. Damn, why was she so inarticulate?

"So early, I mean?" She quickly emphasized, and just as fast as it had appeared, the hurt expression on his face vanished. Had she not watched him so intensely, she would have questioned whether it had actually been there in the first place.

"You invited me over, and it's past 1800." He explained.

It was? Wow, when had she lost track of time to that extent; this hardly ever happened to her! Of course, he knew that as well, and an almost gleeful smile adorned his face now.

"Not a word, Flyboy!" She scolded playfully, scooping a handful of suds from the tub, then throwing them in the general direction of his large body looming over hers. Laughing, he jumped away, then headed for the door.

"I brought some stuff over for dinner. I get started on cooking; you join me when you're done here?" A luminous smile was now adorning her face, and it filled him with an almost palpable happiness.

"Thanks Harm," she called after him before he closed the bathroom door.

"My pleasure."

_TBC_


	6. Ch6: Dinner Served, Dessert to Come

**AN: **_For general disclaimer, see chapter one._

**AN: **Thanks for all the wonderful reviews for the last chapter – I sure am glad people are still reading this, even though it takes me quite some time to update between chapters. In fact, I'm amazed how many people have a story alert for this story, and I would love to hear from you guys as well, if you feel like it? I hope you will enjoy this part!!

**AN:** From fourth paragraph on, there's a little idea knitted in there just for Alix – your reviews always make me laugh with the funny things you pick out to comment on. So this is for you; I hope you recognize it! (If not, check out your review for chapter 5, LOL)

Many thanks, as always, go out to Staz, for her continued enthusiasm. And the dinner recipe Harm is preparing is courtesy of my dad; I'm not much of a cook myself but I'm good at eating and it was delicious!

**o o o o o o**

**Chapter 6: Dinner Served, Dessert to Come**

For a few moments, she simply stood in the doorway and watched him puttering about. He looked good in her kitchen. Oh who was she kidding; he looked good just about anywhere. He was wearing jeans and a black, button-down shirt. God, he looked sexy in black! A large pot on the stove suddenly hissed, and he lifted the lid and threw a generous amount of linguini into the happily bubbling water. Then he turned back to a smaller pot, vigorously whipping its content. A mouth-watering aroma was wafting through the room, which she assumed originated from whatever it was that was baking in the oven.

It had taken her a while longer than usual to finish up on the bathroom. First she had to calm down her racing heart, the powerful emotions that had swept through her having left all her senses scrambled. When she had finally managed to climb out of the tub, dry off, apply some lotion and blow-dry her hair, she was left with the impossible decision of what to wear. She had already laid out a pair of dark blue jeans and a soft, pink cashmere sweater with a v-neck that she knew emphasized her waist and made for a nice, subtle cleavage. Feminine without trying to be overly enticing. Except that now, everything seemed too enticing, and she feared that, if he looked at her once more tonight like he had done when she was in the tub earlier, she would no longer be capable of controlling her emotions and feelings for this man. So instead she decided on her largest pair of sweatpants and a rather bulky sweatshirt, feeling much more comfortable at approaching him knowing she looked like a large grey blimp, and capable of ignoring the dangerous undercurrents unleashed between them tonight. Just like she had done ever since she met him.

When she finally managed to utter a single sound, she said: "Smells delicious," and he whipped around as if her appearance was unexpected in her own apartment. They stared at each other, and for just a moment they were wrapped in an almost palpable awkwardness. She blushed, remembering her basically having been naked in front of him, and he cleared his throat, at a loss of what to say. Instead, he just grinned a little sheepishly, and looked so boyish that she couldn't help but smile. And just like that, they put it behind them; unspoken, unacknowledged, business as usual.

"You know," she said, walking into the kitchen. A little teasing would probably go a long way towards steering them back to less dangerous territory. "That was my favorite mug you just broke in there."

"Me?" He huffed, turning back to his pot and the whipping of its contents, "I wasn't anywhere near that mug!"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't have dropped it if you hadn't yelled around in my apartment, scaring the living daylights out of me." She grinned, looking at him from the side. He kept his attention trained on his cooking, yet couldn't hide a smile either.

"But," she sighed theatrically, "if you feed me soon, I might eventually forgive you." She leaned over the stove, trying to peek into the pots and pans. "So, what are we having?"

He nudged her away from the stove with his hip. "Stuffed chicken breasts, with pasta in a lemon cream sauce."

Her mouth watered, not only from imagining dinner, but also from the way he talked about the food, the words said in a mixture of anticipation and pride, his voice soft and a little raspy. A rush of warmth raced through her, and she quickly quenched it.

"So what's with all the green stuff then?" She had noticed a bunch of different kind of green leaves leftover on the counter.

"Arugula and watercress; that's what the chicken breasts are stuffed with."

"Ah, so now you're hiding the vegetables _in_ my meat, huh? Sneaky."

"Not only that," he winked at her, "the chicken is also glazed with a crust of pine nuts…" He grabbed a spoon and dipped it in a small bowl sitting on the counter. "Lots of protein…" His voice lower, he scooted closer to her, spoon in hand. "Excellent source of fiber…" This almost whispered. He was so close that she had to lift her eyes to look up at him.

"Open," he challenged her, and she was so stunned that all she could do was comply. She opened her mouth and he slipped the spoon past her lips, feeding her a spoonful of the crushed pine nut mixture. The flavors immediately exploded on her tongue; toasted nuts mixed with a sweet honey twang. Her eyes fluttered closed.

"Good?" He whispered, though he was surprised he could even get a sound out of his throat. Just watching this woman eat could tie him up in knots. Really tight ones.

"Uh huh," was all she could manage to utter while her eyes slowly flitted open again, only to find herself caught in his steady, blazing gaze. The flavor of the food still prevalent, she licked her lips, and he gulped forcibly.

He was really pushing the boundaries of mere friendship tonight, he suddenly realized. He hoped she wouldn't recoil, wouldn't run, would accept whatever was coming their way. But he just couldn't risk overwhelming her so fast, after everything she had been through lately. So far, she was still here, which he couldn't help but find encouraging. For now, he opted for humor though, a mechanism that so far had always helped them overcome any awkward moments they had been trying to simultaneously ignore. Tenderly, he tipped the back of the spoon on the tip of her nose.

"Excellent. Now go make yourself useful, woman, and set the table!"

Grateful for the diversion, she gave back as good as she got. "Aye, aye, Sir!" She mocked him, saluted, and then scooted out from her trapped position between the kitchen counter and Harm. She was burning up, the blood rushing in her ears. Something sure was different tonight.

Dinner was soon ready, and they sat down to enjoy the wonderful meal Harm had prepared. He didn't comment on the candles she had placed on the table, or the soft music playing in the background. The whole atmosphere was romantic as all get out, but he didn't feel safe enough to mention it. The implications, though, made his head spin.

"Did you talk to Cresswell today?"

"Yeah," she nodded between bites. "Thanks for informing him first, by the way. I gave him the details of what had happened, told him I could be back by Wednesday…" At this, Harm's eyebrows rose in silent reprimand at her wanting to go back to work the day after tomorrow already, but she cut him off before he could say anything.

"…and he answered he'd better not see me before next Monday."

Harm smiled. "And you didn't fight him on it, Mac? That's a new one."

She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "Yeah, for once it actually felt right to take a little bit of time for myself. I rather enjoyed doing absolutely nothing today." His eyebrows rose almost up to his hairline this time.

"Don't look so surprised." She continued. "I'm not all about my work, you know." But then she dropped her gaze to her plate, mindlessly twirling a few linguini with her fork. "At least I shouldn't be…" She trailed off.

He reached across the table and, putting his index finger under her chin, gently lifted her head back up. "You're not," he simply stated. And was rewarded with such a luminous, soft smile that all his insides turned to mush. Trying to lighten the moment, he continued.

"And anyway, there's nothing worth mentioning going on, unless you count the Mount Everest of paperwork sitting on my desk!"

"Aww, poor Harm,…" she grinned, secretly pleased that she didn't have to deal with that. Paperwork wasn't her favorite thing to tackle, but Harm was so much worse; being the man of action that he was. With a satisfied sigh, she finished her dinner, lapping up the rest of the delicious sauce with a piece of bread. "That was wonderful. Thank you so much for cooking. You're a culinary genius!" She gushed on.

Harm just watched her with a pleased expression. Anything that could make this amazing woman happy, he'd cheerfully do for the rest of his life.

They lingered over their empty plates talking. She filled him in on what she had been doing all day. Considering that it wasn't much, it quickly turned into a rendition of the book she currently read. It turned out that Harm had read it as well, and they began dissecting all the main characters. She hadn't felt this human in a long time. Then her sweet tooth suddenly acted up.

"Want some ice cream for dessert?" She asked out of the blue. "I have quite the little flavor collection waiting for us in the freezer." She got up from the table and started gathering their empty plates to take back to the kitchen.

"Sure," he answered. "But let me get it, you stay put."

"It's alright Harm, you've already done so much. Besides, I have to move around a little myself; I might get rusty otherwise!" She smiled and headed towards the kitchen. Instead of sitting back down though, Harm cleared the rest of the dinner table and followed behind.

Setting down the dishes next to the sink, she went to her freezer and pulled out five different tubs of ice cream.

Harm laughed. "Your two best friends, Mac? Ben and Jerry?"

"Well, two of my three best friends, anyway," she replied impishly. Her smile was sweet and loving though, and he felt ridiculously warmed up by the simple statement.

"Should we have some coffee, too?"

"Sure." With her collection of tubs aligned on the kitchen counter, she turned towards the cabinet where her dishes were stacked. The dessert bowls were up on a higher shelf, and she reached up her arm to grab two, momentarily forgetting about her recent accident and the bruising that still remained and constricted her movements. A sharp pain dug into her side under her ribs, and she yelped in surprise and sucked in her breath forcefully.

Hearing her cry of pain, Harm let coffee be coffee and immediately went to her, coming to stand directly behind her. "Easy now," he whispered into her ear, while reaching around her to take two bowls from the shelf. When he moved, his whole body aligned with hers, his front plastered to her back. Heat was blazing through her vigorously when she felt his muscles move. He lowered the bowls to the counter, then closed the cabinet door.

Yet he didn't, couldn't step away. This overwhelming urge to feel her close took over his body, his senses, his reasoning. Her right arm was resting against her middle where she had subconsciously placed it when the sudden pain had poked her insides, and he reached around and placed his arm over hers. Then he entwined their fingers and held her close.

All her senses went into overdrive at once. She felt so much that her head started spinning and her eyes fluttered closed. His strength, coming off his body in waves and infusing every pore of her body. His legs, touching hers from ankles to hips. His chest muscles, pressing against her shoulder blades, heaving in an ever more rapid rhythm as his breathing sped up. Mirroring hers. He rested his chin on top of her head, softly nuzzling her hair with it. Her limbs went weak and she leaned her head back slightly, coming to rest against his neck. She was immersed by his strength, his smell, his inescapable energy.

With his hand on top of hers, he pulled her closer still. Holding her to him. Pressing his middle to hers, his arousal instantaneously evident against her back. She was flooded by a rush of sublime warmth, a pooling of desire cascading inside of her that was unsurpassed in its intensity. She felt like drowning in and rescued by him at the same time. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move, could only sink against him, gripping his hand tightly, holding him to her so he'd never let her go again.

Could it really be this simple after all? Despite all the hurt she had caused him, could he be feeling for her what she had always hoped, dreamed, wished he'd feel for her? That he desired her now was evident, yet this moment, this perfect embrace, seemed to transcend mere sexual desire. She couldn't imagine that something this powerful could arise one-sidedly. She wished with all her heart, oh how she wished there was another chance for them. Suddenly she moved; couldn't take it anymore, needed to see him.

He felt her turn in his embrace and adapted to their changed positions. His arm remained against her middle and subsequently came to rest against her back. He held her tight as she brought up her hands, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, clinging to him as if she was drowning. Her sensual body leaned into his, her head nudged into his neck. She smelled like vanilla and he nuzzled his nose in her hair. For a while she didn't move; all that changed was the off and on of the soft puffs of air of her breathing against his collarbone, moist and warm. He had never felt closer to her than now, and all his hopes, his dreams for a future with her were back with a vengeance and refused to be locked up again.

Slowly he became aware that she was moving once more, how she almost imperceptibly lifted her head from his neck.

"You feel this, too?" She whispered the words against the hollow of his neck; breathless gasps that made his skin tingle. This energy, this force, this thing between them was undeniable, inescapable, life-altering.

"Yes," he murmured.

She finally looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Her eyes locking with his. Wondering. Questioning. Hoping. "It's not too late?"

He tightened his arm around her so there was no misunderstanding. "It's _never_ too late, Mac."

There it was again. That blasted word. This beautiful word. The fluttering in her tummy intensified as she felt consumed by his blazing eyes. Subconsciously, she licked her lips. He groaned. Held her tighter. His eyes darkening with passion. Anticipation swirled between them, stretched and coiled until it was almost palpable. His head moved toward hers, hers moved towards his. Almost in slow motion, all space between them was eradicated. First there was his breath on her face. Then his nose giving her an Eskimo kiss. A small smile stole across her face at the sweetness of this motion. And it was then that he finally captured her lips with his.

Instant warmth. A touch of sublimity. A rush of passion. His mouth wandered across hers, soft and slow, a gentle exploration of form and texture and feel. Then his tongue joined the sensual assault, outlining, sliding along the seam, seeking entrance. She opened up to him immediately, and was swept away by the force of their connection. She clung to his shirt, holding herself upright as her knees buckled and every fiber of her being weakened. As if she was a heavy liquid held in place only by his embrace. His taste, his texture, his vigor, everything about him both felt achingly familiar and utterly new.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly as she became pliable in his embrace. Pangs of heat shot through all his extremities until they heavily settled in his middle at the feel of her yielding, accommodating, demanding mouth. He tunneled his hand into her hair, the soft strands gliding through his fingers, and their kiss intensified. He kissed her slowly. Thoroughly. Longingly. Endlessly. The world was spinning around him with her the only entity holding him in place.

Before long, air became an irritating necessity and they reluctantly ended the kiss, panting heavily. Slowly, he managed to ply open his eyes, to find her gazing at him with an expression so amazed that he couldn't help but wrap her tightly in his arms. She snuggled her face in his neck, trying to catch her breath, and he ran reassuring circles up and down her back. He understood. After all, he felt just as astonished as she had looked. This was so different from any kiss he had ever experienced, even the few ones he shared with her. It was like… magic. Meant to be. A miracle.

_TBC_


	7. Ch7: A Different Kind of Therapy

**AN:**_For general disclaimer, see chapter one. _

**AN:** This has actually turned into one of my favorite chapters so far. :-) It might not be what you expect after the last chapter, but for me, it had to be this way and at this point. As I have no personal experiences in this regard, I hope that the feelings I am describing ring true. Please enjoy, and feedback is, as always, very much appreciated.

o o o o o o

**Chapter 7: A Different Kind of Therapy**

"Colonel, Good Morning!" She was enthusiastically greeted. If Harriet was surprised about this impromptu visit, she didn't let it show. Maybe Mac should have alerted her of her coming, but it was such a spur of the moment decision to come over that she didn't even think of it.

It was only when the door had closed behind Harm last night that her mind was able to think clearly again. When they could both manage to breathe more regularly, they had to laugh about the melted ice cream sitting in its cardboard containers on the counter. He took it as his cue to leave. At her door, he had said good night, placing an almost unbearably soft kiss on her lips, then slowly walked away from her door. Backwards. Keeping his eyes locked with hers until he reached the staircase and had no choice but to finally turn around. She leaned against her doorjamb for support, with what she figured must have been the most goofily happy and dreamy expression on her face.

Yet once he was gone, there was no stopping the onslaught of insecurity and fear, the remembrance of all the stumbling blocks along their way, especially the one that had grown so insurmountably large that it had the capability of completely stopping any steps further forward. She had tossed and turned in bed; sleep had fallen by the wayside as her mind grappled with everything that had happened, during this unforgettable evening that had upended her world and had changed everything she thought she knew. It was only in the wee hours of the morning that she suddenly knew where she could turn to, and here she was.

She shook the thoughts away and smiled at the other woman's automatic use of the deeply engrained military protocol. Before she could even get a word out, Harriet gushed on.

"Oh it's so nice to see you! You look much improved, how are you feeling?" Luckily, her face was only slightly bruised by now, and she had managed to successfully cover the pink blotches with make-up. She smiled at the welcome. Harriet always had a warmth around her that immediately pulled Mac in and made her feel at home.

"Hi Harriet, it's great to see you, too. I'm doing much better, thanks, but how about you?" Harriet's protruding belly must make it really hard for her to get around by now, not to mention Jimmy perched precariously on her side.

Mac immediately reached for the baby; lending a helping hand seemed the least she could do for intruding on Harriet unannounced. In a way, interacting with the little guy was why she had come in the first place.

"Well, life is getting just a little exhausting," Harriet answered while handing Jimmy over into Mac's waiting arms. "Come on in, Colonel."

"Thanks, and it's Mac."

"Sorry, momentary lapse," Harriet smiled apologetically. "Can I offer you anything, Mac?"

"No, thanks. This little guy here is quite enough for now," Mac cooed at the squirming baby tugged onto her hip. "Why don't _you_ sit down and put your feet up for a bit?"

Gratefully, Harriet sank onto the couch with a sigh.

"You know, ever since that little guy here learned to walk, he's just up and about constantly. Such a little whirlwind. I've gated off the whole house, and I still run after him all day." Yet the loving tone with which Harriet recounted her current situation told Mac that, although exhausting, Harriet wouldn't miss it for the world. Her gut knotted again; the sense of loss and sadness strong and almost overpowering. But this is why she had come; she needed answers, of sorts.

She quenched the feeling as best as she could; instead concentrating on Jimmy in her arms, who was momentarily preoccupied with the silver necklace she was wearing. His little chubby fingers tried to grab the sparkling piece, and when she slowly extracted it from his grip, he just tried again, not to be distracted from his goal. He was just so cute, his mouth open in concentration, with a little drool dribbling out. She felt immediately warmer, and the weight on her shoulder felt just a little lighter.

"Where's AJ today?"

"Oh, I've enrolled him in an enrichment program. It's usually in the afternoon, after kindergarten, but since school is on Christmas break, there was the option of all-day care. He really loves it, he gets to play with lots of other kids his own age, and I get a bit of a reprieve." Harriet grinned at Mac, watching her friend interact with her son. Mac was smiling, and had a very telling sparkle in her eyes that Harriet had rarely seen at the office or in other social situations. Only when she was with children, or sometimes when a certain Commander was around, but apparently, he was too dense to see it. Or he ignored it. Either way, Harriet didn't get it, but it wasn't her place to interfere. And for quite some time, that sparkle, that force of life that the Colonel had always exuded seemed to have disappeared for good.

"I hope you're going to stay for a while? I was just about to make sandwiches for lunch; it'd be great to have some grown-up company."

"Are you sure? I mean, I didn't mean to intrude on you..."

"I know." Harriet interrupted her, her tone somber. She knew about her friend's fertility problems and had a pretty good feeling why Mac had needed to come by. There was no need for explanations.

"Besides, I'll just put you to work! You can take care of Jimmy for as long as you'd like to stay around!" She smiled in Mac's direction while she slowly maneuvered her body off the couch. That thing was really too low for pregnant women!

Mac took Jimmy over to the corner where his toys were, and set him down on his blanket. His first action was to get up again and tip over the container with his toys. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Mac tirelessly built and rebuilt towers with blocks that Jimmy had the greatest time knocking over. Several other toys were tried and discarded in his never-ending curiosity. Then he just wandered around, trying to grab the remote off the coffee table and nibble on it, dump the soil out of a potted plant, and open all of Harriet's drawers, with Mac behind him, trying to do damage control as best as she could.

Pretty soon, Harriet called them to lunch, and Mac joined her in the kitchen: She strapped Jimmy into his high chair and tied a bib around his neck.

"Sit down," Harriet urged her and pointed at the chair next to Jimmy. She had prepared grilled cheese sandwiches and warmed up some tomato soup to go with it. Comfort food. She thought Mac might need it, and besides, Jimmy loved grilled cheese sandwiches.

Mac reached for a sandwich triangle and cut it in bite-sized pieces for a tiny mouth, then watched in delight as Jimmy worked piece after piece into his mouth with the use of all of his fingers. As Harriet filled her in on Christmas at the Roberts', detailing the usual clash of her parents with her father-in-law, the craziness of too many presents for small children, cooking disasters, and a Christmas tree that had tipped over three times already, Mac simply enjoyed. There it was again, this feeling of deliberately having missed out on the simple joys in life for too long. She marveled at the sensation of the crisp bread giving way to the gooey cheese inside, the tingling on her tongue from the hot, slightly spicy soup, the aromas of basil and toasted bread mingling in the air, the soft chatter of her friend, and Jimmy trying to grab her hair with his cheese-crusted fingers. Once he had finished his sandwich, she spoon-fed him blueberry-apple puree, and then she and the little guy were sent upstairs to get the baby down for his nap.

"Here's a bottle with tea, suckling at it still serves to calm him down before he goes to bed; just sit in the rocking chair with him. He needs a new diaper, but there's no need for his pajamas, just leave the pants off."

Having received her instructions, Mac took off with Jimmy in her arm. She stopped in the bathroom to wipe the food off his face, ears, hair, and hands, then proceeded to his room. After she had changed his diaper, she sat down in the rocking chair and cradled him in the crook of her arm. He grabbed for his bottle until she plopped it into his mouth, and then he immediately settled down. His eyes were wide open, looking intently at her, while one of his hands had grabbed hold of her finger, squeezing tightly.

She could only stare at him. He was such a gorgeous baby; with his wisps of soft blond hair, his chubby cheeks, and these large eyes. She had read once that nose and ears grow continuously throughout one's life, yet the eyes were the exact same size from birth till the end. She couldn't even imagine these eyes ever fitting into a grown-up man's face, yet ultimately, the time would pass so quickly, through countless little steps and firsts. A life filled with loving parents and a house full of siblings. Silent tears started streaming down her cheeks, but they weren't as agonizing. It was rather peaceful, actually; a languid pouring out of emotions that had been suppressed for too long.

She kept watching as his eyes slowly drooped close. She still felt the pressure of his tiny hand holding her finger, and the occasional suckle at the bottle, so she kept a steady rhythm of slightly rocking with the chair.

Harriet peaked in her head a while later. Mac attempted to get up to put Jimmy in his crib, but she motioned her to stay put. She crept into the room and settled down on the small couch to observe Mac. Outwardly, she seemed fine, but the tear tracks on her cheeks gave her away, and Harriet could tell that she was mulling over something. For a while, all that could be heard in the room was the slight squeaking of the chair and her son's strong and fast breathing. Just as intended, it was weaving its spell.

"Harriet?" She whispered. "Have you ever thought about what you would have done if you hadn't been able to have children? About Bud, I mean…," she trailed off.

"You mean, would I have still married him?"

"Yes, in a way, I guess…" She trailed off again, a faraway look on her face. Harriet thought it wise not to answer; it seemed as if there was more to come, some clarification as to what the Colonel was actually getting at. She didn't have to wait long.

"Just, the feelings of guilt… I don't know how to deal with those."

"But, Mac, you have an illness, it's not your fault."

"I know… I feel guilty towards Harm. I'd be taking away his chance of having his own children." It all came out in a strangled sob, so full of despair that it broke Harriet's heart. The Commander and the Colonel had to endure so much suffering in their lives already. Suddenly her mind honed on what she had heard. Since when were they…?

"Are you and the Commander dating?"

"No. Maybe. Well, not yet, anyways…" That answer certainly hadn't cleared up anything; Harried was more confused now than before.

"But you are talking about having children together?"

"We've sort of decided that years ago…" Mac softly said. Inwardly, Harried shook her head. How could two such highly intelligent people get everything so backwards, basically putting the cart before the horse? Again, it wasn't her place to say so, but it shed a whole new light on their relationship.

"Did he say anything that would make you feel guilty?"

"No, not at all," she was quick to defend Harm, "quite the opposite, actually. He said it didn't matter how it happened, as long as it happened with me..." A wistful smile appeared on her lips when she thought back on that particular evening, but was quickly replaced when her thoughts were tormenting her once more.

"But he's already given up so much for me, how can I allow him to give up on having children of his own?" It came out as barely more than a whisper; her head dropped and the tears were once more flowing.

"Don't you think that should be for _him_ to decide?" At this, Mac's head flew up. A bit dazed, all she could do was look at her. Harriet decided it was time to leave Mac to ponder that on her own for a bit.

She maneuvered her uncooperative body off the couch, then came over to the rocking chair. Stroking her baby's soft hair, she addressed Mac.

"Stay here for a bit. Once Jimmy is out, he can sleep in any position. Just sit with him. It's like therapy, believe me."

Once more alone with Jimmy and her tormented mind, Mac considered what Harriet had said. Of course, it wasn't up to her to make Harm's decisions; not for her to allow or not allow him anything. But was it truly okay with him, or did he feel obligated to her? He had promised her, told her he didn't make promises he couldn't keep, and he would never back away from it. The aftermath of Paraguay had almost broken them, yet the promise had survived even that. But if it was an obligation he felt, would he eventually resent her for it, for holding him to a promise to which she couldn't hold up her end of the bargain?

These recurring thoughts were a part of why she had pushed him away these last couple of months. Apart from all the emotional turmoil Clay's betrayal had left her with, her almost certain infertility made her retreat from Harm. Maybe, if she pushed him away long enough, he would take his chance at a different life and opt out on her.

Yet he was still here. And now the bets were off. He had also told her back then that he wanted to be a part of her life, but what did that mean, ultimately? After all that had happened, he was still her closest friend, which meant he was 'a part of her life' already. Only she was craving so much more. She wished not every sentence of major importance ever uttered throughout their rocky relationship were so darn ambiguous. His 'not yet' and her 'never' had haunted them for years. And then there was last night's kiss. A first tentative promise of more to come. Was that the answer she had been looking for?

Suddenly, it seemed like the most logical conclusion in the world. For months now, he had hung onto her, through all the discouragements, and he had kissed her to confirm his commitment. Logic, however, didn't necessarily mean she could make herself believe. For the law, logic was her ally, yet when it came to her personal life, it seemed that logic never made an appearance in her decision-making processes. She knew one thing for sure, though, a feeling that had seemingly always been there, and had been reaffirmed over these last few days – she was aching for Harm, with her heart, her soul, her entire being, and she had lost the strength and the willingness to fight it. So it boiled down to the decisive question: Could she deal with him having to make this ultimate sacrifice?

She sighed heavily and instinctively cuddled Jimmy closer to her body. His weight now heavy on her arm and her lap, she still couldn't make herself get up to put him to bed. Just looking at him, inhaling the comforting smells of baby powder and milk, a powerful wave of warmth washed through her, tingling in her tummy, rushing through all her extremities. It was love, pure unadulterated love for this small, perfect human being. And she hadn't born him, she suddenly realized. She loved him with her whole heart, and his 'creation' had nothing to do with it. With a sudden clarity she saw where her thinking had gone wrong these past months. She would always feel this way about any child in her life. Maybe she could not 'create' a child of her own, but she could create something else. She could create love.

**o o o o o**

She joined Harriet in the living room a while later, having put Jimmy down in his crib. Mac tentatively smiled at her and sat down next to her on the couch.

"May I?" She softly asked, lifting her hand.

Harriet simply nodded her assent and Mac laid her hand flatly on Harriet's belly.

"You're lucky, they are up," she smiled at Mac, moving her friend's hand to where she could better feel the movements inside.

For a while, the two women simply sat in companionable silence. Then Mac spoke again.

"I think I'm finally seeing a little clearer now…" She felt more content now than she had in a long time.

"For the last couple of months, I was drowning in this overwhelming grief over what I have lost, the babies that would never grow inside me, and it obscured everything else about my life. I lost track of the big picture. I mean, I'm still heartbroken that I might never carry a child, but …" Her free hand waved around in a circle, her gesture indicating Harriet's life.

"I want all of _this_. Seeing a child, or children, grow up, being there every step of the way. A husband beside me. A family. The pregnancy and the birth are only the first nine months. But there is so much more that comes after that…" She sighed, a soft smile playing on her lips. She felt much lighter, finally having fought her way out of the bleakness.

"So, Mac, if you are able to see things this way, why would you think any less of Harm?"

_TBC _

_**AN:** Harm will be back in the next chapter, I promise:-)_


	8. Ch8: Geminids

**AN: **_For general disclaimer, see chapter one._

**AN: **Harm is back, you guys, just as promised :-) To make up for the lack of him, and the long wait, this chapter is extra long! The ideas for it had been with me a long time, but it took a sleepless night for them to pour all out. Many thanks and a big hug go out to Staz for helpful comments and general enthusiasm!  
Get comfortable, pure fluff ahead!

**AN**: A short note of self-advertisement – Just the other day, I posted a new one-shot story called _'Enjoy the Silence'_. As I had to rate it 'M', it isn't getting very much exposure; the story stats tell it vividly. If you enjoy my writing, I would love it if you guys check it out – you might like it…! Now enough about other stuff, and on with this story! Please enjoy!

**o o o o o o**

**Chapter 8: Geminids **

Harm was happy. Middle-of-the-day, punch-drunk happy. He floated through the bullpen as if walking on air all day long; sailed successfully through a court case in the morning and conducted two witness statements in the afternoon. Different activities than just paperwork were easier to concentrate on, and everything seemed to be going his way.

After their parting last night, he had made his way home, almost in a daze, not quite believing the turn of events. Had gone to bed, replaying the evening and feeling her kiss over and over again, until he had succumbed to a deep sleep. Dreams swirled through his subconscious, bright and warm and passionate, of which he remembered nothing in the morning but the content feeling of a future suddenly having opened up again that merely yesterday morning, he had thought to be forever out of reach. Finally, after all these years of convoluted feelings and missed opportunities , they seemed to have a chance. This time, he swore to himself, they were going to get it right.

He wasn't that naïve to believe that everything would be solved with a kiss. It was rather her question, 'it's not too late,' that let his hopes and dreams soar. For the last few years now, he had no longer understood the extent of her feelings towards him. He knew by now that years ago, she had been in love with him for a long time; had learned through the benefit of hindsight to read her past signs and actions. It was he who had been too fearful, too oblivious, or too ignorant. Every day after the mess with Singer and then the showdown in Paraguay had for him been a painful step on a long, agonizing learning curve towards a more thorough perception of himself and the effects his words and actions had had on the people around him. He knew he had changed to an extent, and he hoped it ultimately was for the better.

There were so many issues between Mac and him left to talk about, so many misunderstandings and problems to work through. But last night they had both admitted, in their usual cryptic ways, but nevertheless, that there was something special between them that was worth it to be pursued. Finally.

He couldn't wait to see her again, and realized that no words to that extent had been spoken last night. He tried calling her during lunch time, but she wasn't home. Now it was almost time to head out, and he was surfing through the Internet, reading the news, when he stumbled across the perfect idea. He smiled and reached for the phone.

**o o o o o o**

For a few minutes, Mac just sat in her car. She felt thoroughly drained and exhausted. It wasn't so much her body that was aching, even though carrying a baby around all day hadn't exactly helped her bruises. It was worth every pain though. It was much more of an emotional fatigue that had settled on her, her mind having worked through so many issues and thoughts in the span of the day.

During Jimmy's nap, she and Harriet had relaxed on the couch for a while, mindlessly watching daytime television, although Mac's mind couldn't quite let go of Harriet's question. Then Jimmy woke up again, and Mac went to bring him downstairs. Soon thereafter, Bud had come home, having picked up AJ from daycare, and the house had turned into a whirlwind of activity immediately. Little AJ, who wasn't all that little any longer, had barreled into his 'Auntie Mac' with all his five and a half year old strength. Her ribs protested painfully, but she ignored it in favor of tickling him thoroughly until his sweet, bell-like laughter bounced through the living room. She spent another hour giving AJ her undivided attention, which meant admiring his never-ending Thomas the Tank Engine train track layout in the basement and then enduring numerous rounds of some Spongebob Squarepants board game. She didn't quite get the appeal of a kitchen sponge wearing pants and a tie, but she wasn't five so she guessed it was okay to fake interest more than feel it. Bud and Harriet had urged her to stay through dinner, but she had begged off, claiming exhaustion. In reality though, she wanted to see Harm. She was growing more and more anxious, nervous and jittery about the prospect of spending the evening with him.

She realized that neither one of them had said anything about it. True to form, they had made a decision of possibly life-altering capacity with no words spoken. And then nothing. Her tummy fluttered like a bunch of butterflies celebrating the first sunshine when she thought back to the way he had kissed her last night, and the silly grin was back on her face as well. She knew they needed to talk about so many things, but for now, she just wanted to spend time with him, as much as and in whichever capacity possible. Should she be worried that she hadn't heard from him? No, she was being silly, she decided. After all, she hadn't been home all day. And why should she not be the one to call him? Hadn't she decided just after her accident that it was time to finally manage her life again? She resolved that it was time to be brave and go for what she wanted. Smiling, she reached for her cell phone.

'You have – one – new message,' her phone chimed, and she called her mailbox to pick it up, already having a strong hunch of who might have called her. She sighed happily.

"_Hey Mac_," Harm's warm voice resounded through the phone with a slightly tinny twang of a recorded message, "_I had a wonderful time last night_…" She could literally see his smile while hearing the words. "_We should do this again sometime. Call me when you get this message?_" She thought she could detect a touch of insecurity with his last question. Or did she just imagine it? Either way, of course she was going to call him back.

"Hey Harm," she greeted when he picked up after the third ring.

"_Mac! Where have you been hiding all day, Marine?_"

"Why? Did you miss me?" She grinned like an idiot, but it felt so good to flirt with him a little… okay, a lot.

"_Hmm, not really… I just noticed the quiet around here, with nobody bellowing around in Marine strength_…" He teased her.

"Hey!" she huffed playfully.

"_So, got any plans for tonight?_"

Just his voice made her tingly all over. "Let's see… I had a date with a big, strong, burly Marine tonight… but he had to go off to save the world, so I guess a Squid will do."

He laughed out loud. "_Lucky me then. I'll pick you up at seven?_"

"For what?"

"_Don't be so nosy, ninja girl. Oh, and Mac?_"

"Yes?"

"_Wear something warm! See you at seven. Bye_." Then he hung up. And she felt no longer tired at all.

**o o o o o o**

He had barely knocked once when she swung open the door, eager to see him again. She was nervous and happy, a little jittery and very giddy; she didn't remember ever feeling that wound up about a date, ever. And then he was there, large and handsome and all male in her doorframe, and her whole being pooled, warm and languid, right down into her belly.

"Hey," she greeted him shyly.

"Hey yourself," he whispered, then gave her a small peck on the lips. "Are you ready to go?"

"Uh huh," she nodded, dazed. "Uhm, just have to get my coat." She retreated two steps, then turned and headed towards her bedroom. "So I'm wearing two sweaters… Is that warm enough for wherever you are planning on taking me?"

"Yeah, that should do nicely." When she was back with her coat on, he stretched out his hand towards her. Slowly, almost reverently, she placed her hand in his larger one, and watched while he closed his warm fingers around it, feeling them grip her tightly. She had the strongest sensation of coming home. Her eyes traveled up, met his, and their gazes locked and held for infinite moments. Then he tugged slightly and she followed his lead, out her door – and toward her dreams.

**o o o o o o**

She laughed when they got outside. "Your corvette, Harm? There's snow everywhere!"

"That's no hindrance for my baby here," he cooed, and she giggled when he tenderly stroked a hand across the roof of his beloved car. He looked at her, and there was a twinkle in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time. With a vengeance she realized how much she'd missed it; _him_, every single thing about him.

With an exaggerated flourish, he opened the passenger door, and she carefully slid in the low car. It was a little painful, her ribs voiced a protest but she didn't let it show. She wasn't going to let anything spoil their evening.

"So you still aren't going to tell me where we are going?" Mac tried once more when they were riding along, soon leaving the city limits behind them.

"Not yet," he glanced over at her, "but we'll be there soon." She almost missed it when he mumbled, "I just hope you won't be disappointed," while he steadfastly concentrated on his driving. She slid her hand over his on the gear shift, and tenderly caressed the back of his hand.

"Not a chance, flyboy," she whispered, and he smiled softly upon hearing her say the beloved endearment that she hadn't used in a long time. So many little parts of their former relationship simply stole their way back into their lives, each one building on top of the other, letting hope grow.

The rest of the trip was spent in comfortable silence until Harm suddenly turned off the main street down a narrow, barely cleared path, flanked only by fields left and right. And then stopped the car.

"Harm, what are you doing? Are we ever going to get back out of here with this car?" Mac worried, glancing at the snow drifts that bordered the path on each side.

"Oh I'm not worried about that. After all, I have a big, bad Marine with me…" He smirked at her, "I'll just let you push us out later!"

"Jerk," she muttered, giving him a slap on the arm, but had to grin nevertheless. She felt silly, just happily, goofily silly. She had no idea why she was basically sitting in the middle of nowhere, in a tiny car, in the snow, and she loved every second of it. He was with her, and that was all that mattered. That didn't mean her curiosity wouldn't get the better of her though. "Spill it, Harm!"

"Well, I thought we could have a picnic," he announced as if it was the most logical thing to do in the middle of winter.

"A picnic." She echoed, a little dumbfounded. "In the snow." Suspiciously, she once more glanced at their surroundings that coldly glistened in the blue tint of moonlight. "Huh."

"Well, more like a car picnic," Harm reassured her while getting out of the car. "You just stay where you are." Intrigued, she decided that, for now at least, she would stop guessing what he was up to and just enjoy whatever else he would come up with next. Turning slightly in her seat, she watched him take down the top of the convertible. He worked fast, yet with concentration, just like he did everything in life. Once the top was off, the cold air immediately chilled her cheeks and ears, and she tucked the sleeves of her coat over her hands. Yet after only a little while, she realized that it was more the shock of the warmed-up air of the car's interior leaving than the actual outside air that made it seem so icy. In fact, the night was cold, yet windless; the air crisp but not bitingly cold. Everything smelled clean and fresh, tinged with the typical, indescribable smell of snow. She thought back to how she was a child of heat; how she had never even known snow until she moved to Minnesota for university. And what a shock the cold and the amounts of snow were at the time! Yet by now, she was accustomed to the cold weather, and had to admit that she loved the pure, icy, innocent look and feel of fresh snow.

She was startled out of her reverie by something heavy hitting her on the legs, which turned out to be a blanket that Harm had produced from the trunk of his car. Another followed that he expertly threw onto his seat while he still stood at his trunk. She folded hers across her legs. After closing the trunk, he reappeared, a large paper bag in one hand, two mugs in the other, and a thermos trapped under his arm.

"Here we go," he announced, while he settled back into his seat. A task he accomplished in a surprisingly graceful way, given that he had to settle the largeness of himself into the smallness of the car. But why was she surprised, he did everything gracefully. Oh my, she had it bad.

He put the thermos and mugs on the center console and passed her the paper bag. "Dinner is served."

She sniffed the air appreciatively. "Do I smell burgers, Harm?"

"And fries," he declared proudly.

Mac reached inside the bag. "How did you manage to keep the food that hot?" She asked him, surprised that the temperature had remained despite the cold night.

"A guy's gotta have _some_ secrets, Mac." She didn't need to know about the amount of blankets and even pillows that he had stuffed in his trunk, hoping he could manage to keep the food at an appetizing temperature.

"Harm?" She withdrew her hand from the bag and looked at him questioningly. "What do you plan on eating? There are _only _burgers in here."

"I'm going to have a burger, too."

"You? Having a burger? A greasy, starchy, artery clogging, ketchupy burger?"

"Why, yes. I thought I should live precariously for a while." He winked at her. "And I don't think 'ketchupy' is a word."

He was mocking her, the smug b… "Fine, have at it. _That_ I want to see." She handed him the bag. To her surprise, he lifted out a burger, unwrapped it, and took a large bite with gusto. He even seemed to like it. What had happened to her health-nut? Her almost vegetarian? The guy who scolded her every time she sank her teeth in one of these greasy concoctions? Something was wrong here… and she was going to find out!

"You like?" She asked sweetly. He just nodded and kept chewing happily. She scooted from her seat over toward his, snuggling up to his side. "Hmm…" she hummed when her face was very close to his, distracting him with her nearness, "then let me try." And before he could react, she moved her hands to his, pulled them with the burger closer to her, and took a bite. "That's not a _burger_!" She proclaimed around her bite, warily chewing the… whatever it was she was eating here.

"Yes it is," he announces smugly, "a vegetarian one!" And then he burst out laughing at the almost appalled expression at the realization of what she was eating. "See, it has your basic burger ingredients: There's a bun, cheese, even ketchup…" His eyes twinkled in the darkness; he was having fun, and her heart simply soared upon discovering, or maybe rediscovering, this playful, flirty side of him. And his sweetness and basic thoughtfulness – how he went through all this trouble providing for something just because she liked it.

So she finished her bite and smiled at him. "You know, it's not even half-bad," she admitted. Following a sudden, inexplicable urge, she placed her hand on his cheek, slightly caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. He leaned into her touch, and she could no longer feel the outside cold while warmth rolled over her like a wave. Then her stomach rumbled, and the spell was broken. Laughing a little self-consciously, she completely moved back into her seat and retrieved her food.

"Hmm… this is so great," she proclaimed after her first bite. It was definitely not her basic Beltway fare. "Where did you get these?" She took another bite and chewed happily.

"There's this little restaurant close not too far from my place. I've discovered it with Mattie a while back. They offer mainly burgers and such, but their food is quite good, and when I discovered they do take-out as well, I thought you might enjoy it." Actually, he had known the first time he set foot into this place that Mac would love everything about it; the atmosphere, the decorations, and especially the food. At the time though, they weren't in a good place; in fact it had pained him to think of her much back then, so ultimately he had never taken her. He waved the thoughts away; she was here now, it was all that mattered at the moment. The time for rehashing the past would come, he was sure of it. Too much had happened to them over the years to just ignore all the heartache and pain and start with a clean slate. They had to wipe it clean first… or at least erase the hard lines, blur and soften them so that they became memories; still there yet hopefully, no longer as biting, not hurting as much. He watched her eat, and she looked carefree and cheerful; a look he hadn't seen on her in a long time. He was inordinately pleased at the thought that his plans for tonight might have had something to do with it.

"So where have you been today?" He asked between bites, reaching for the French fries.

"I went to visit Harriet and the kids. Harm, she is _huge_ by now," she emphasized her astonishment by drawing a wide circle around her own belly with her arms, "it's a mystery to me how she can still get everything done, but she sure does." She smiled, reminiscently thinking about the fact that, despite having two very active kids, twins almost due, a household to run and a husband to care for, Harriet had still taken the time to take care of her. She was a truly wonderful friend.

Harm's next question snapped her out of her reverie. "And how are A.J. and Jimmy?"

So while they were eating, Mac filled him in on all the little new things Jimmy had learned, how great it had been spending the day caring for him, as well as her time spent with A.J. when he had gotten home.

Harm was relieved to discover that the prevalent emotion in Mac's voice was simple joy now. Yet he could read her well enough after all these years to detect that her sadness was still underlying; this tragic sadness that had dominated her features for so very long now. His heart broke a little more for her and all she stood to lose because of this horrible illness. And it broke a little for him, too. He sighed inwardly. Another one of those things to talk about on that long list of theirs. But for the moment, he'd take his cues from her, wouldn't push her to talk about that just yet.

"So what else did you bring?" Mac asked suddenly, pointing at the thermos. Harm was glad she'd startled him before the thoughts of brown-eyed children that might never come to be could take root in his mind and ruin the mood of the evening.

"Hot chocolate," he told her, handing her the mugs. "Made just the way you like it, rich and sweet." He opened the lid, then filled the mugs with the aromatic brew. It immediately crept up her nostrils and made her mouth water. She handed him one mug, the leaned back in her seat, blowing on the liquid before taking her first sip. The flavor immediately exploded on her taste-buds, rich and sweet, just like he had promised. God, she loved this man so much. She was a bit startled by her sudden realization. She had known she still loved him, and always would, on some level. Yet during the push and pull of the last months, years, she had believed herself to be over the strength of the feelings. To love him still only as a friend. Now she knew with sudden clarity that she had been fooling herself all along. She wasn't over anything, she had merely ignored reality and suffered through the time without him. She sighed about her own stupidity, and gazed up at the sky. That's when she saw it.

"Harm," she gasped, a little astonished. "I just saw a shooting star." She didn't remember having seen them very often apart from that time in August when they were rather common, as far as she knew. Certainly not in the winter. But she adored it when she caught one; they always seemed like little rays of hope to her, like small miracles so unimaginably far away, and yet still visible.

"That's why we're out here, actually." He filled her in on the reason why he had steered them out of the city and into a dark, empty field. "It's the strongest night of the Geminids. That's a meteor shower that appears every year in December around the same time. If it is very strong, there can be up to 160 shooting stars visible in just an hour." At her questioning look, he continued with a smile. "I stumbled across it by accident on the Internet today. It said that the night would be very clear, optimal weather to see lots of them, and if one wanted to observe them, it'd be best to be far away from a city, where the view would not be obscured by artificial lights." When she kept staring at him, he added self-consciously, "I thought you might like it…"

Mac couldn't help but stare at him. She had the sudden impression she was just seeing him for the very first time. This wonderful, considerate, loving man. It was the most perfect idea for a date, ever. She was in heaven. Literally.

He still looked a little shy, a little worried, so she swiftly reached up and kissed him softly. "I love it, Harm," she whispered close to his lips, then placed another tender kiss. "It's perfect. Thank you."

They settled back in their seats and stared up at the dark sky, sipping their drinks. While shooting stars sparkled across the sky in every direction. It was beautiful.

Mac took in the silence around her. No cars were passing by on the road nearby, and everything was muffled by the snow blanketing the earth. She was vividly aware of every movement he made, every breath he took. She didn't think she had ever enjoyed a silence like that. Although, come to think of it, "you know what that reminds me of?" Mac spoke softly into the darkness. It wasn't really a question though; the memories were upon them instantly. Afghanistan. The quiet surrounded them while they both reminisced about another night spent together under the stars. A night so cold that they had to move close to the other to share the warmth. A night so quiet that they could hear each other's heartbeat when they cuddled up together. A night where Mac had been so sure that her dreams would come true, that there was no turning back, that they were finally on their way toward each other. Until all hell broke loose, and not only because of the falling bombs.

"Would you have ever thought that it could be so easy, after all?" She asked solemnly, turning her head toward him.

"Mac, nothing about this was easy," he pointed out. He was right, of course, not a single step in their relationship ever since they met nine years ago had been easy. And yet, in a way, he wasn't. She kept looking at him, until he arrived at the same realization.

"No," he whispered, "I wouldn't have thought that it could be so easy." Because in the end, all it had taken was for both of them to give in a little. Rather than letting reason rule their thinking, they had simply had to allow the sparkle, the passion, the magic that had always existed between them the upper hand. And now they were on their way. The rest was up to them.

"So now we're officially dating?"

"Yes," Harm confirmed, "now we're dating." They were smiling at each other. Mac was incredibly happy. She felt young and bubbly and restless, and with a sudden idea and a burst of energy, she got out of the car, not feeling a single ache at the moment.

"Where are you going?" He wondered.

"I'm not going anywhere, Harm." Never again, her mind added, but it was a little too early for confessions of such magnitude, she figured. "But _you_," she continued, pointing at him, "need to scoot over." Her hand waved at her recently vacated seat, and he decided to just go along with whatever she wanted. It just felt too good. He moved into her seat, and looked up at her questioningly. She smiled, and when he was settled, she carefully placed herself on his lap. "Is this too uncomfortable?" She worried.

"Mac, you weigh about as much as a kitten. It's fine." Okay, that was a little understated, but he wouldn't give up the chance to have her so close to him for any reason just now. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer until she came to rest with her back against his chest, and she sighed at their first contact. She grabbed the blankets, draped them over both of them, then settled against him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. He added his other arm around her waist, and then they both relaxed, Mac against Harm, and Harm in the seat, to watch the magnificent spectacle in the sky. His warmth and strength surrounded her, and she didn't think she had ever felt this cherished before.

When a particularly bright, yellowish light splintered across the darkness, Mac turned her face toward him in awe. "Harm, did you see…" Yet the end of the sentence caught in her throat, never to be finished. Their eyes met and held for infinite moments. A tingle spread through every part of her body, making her feel hot and flushed and achy. Her heart started racing, her tummy fluttering in anticipation. It had been entirely too long since they had shared their first, life-altering kiss. Slowly, she turned in his arms until she was sitting sideways on his lap, while her arms had slid up and gone around his neck. She pulled herself closer, until their faces where almost touching, and subconsciously licked her suddenly dry lips.

And then he was kissing her again. It started out slow, with tender touches of his lips against hers, until her tongue ventured out again to taste more of him. He met her probing instantly, the warmth and taste and feel of her too magnetic, too irresistible. He pulled her more tightly against him, kissing her thoroughly, while heat flashed through his body, invading every cell until he was aware only of her. Soon the kiss grew in intensity, desire and longing claiming them, rendering them victim to their power. Not truly conscious of it, his hands wandered under her numerous sweaters and up her naked back. He was desperate for her skin, to feel her softness, to have her become pliable in his arms. She moaned at the first contact, the sound racing straight into him, spurning him on. He took her mouth with an intensity he'd never felt before, with a need desperate to be sated, and she matched his every stroke with equal fervor.

Mac was melting in his arms. Her fingers twirled through the hair at the back of his neck, while she concentrated solely on his mouth, his lips, his passion. Their passion. She felt almost delirious when a deep, dark moan rumbled up his chest and then through her, and she kissed him with abandon until her head was swimming.

They broke their kiss reluctantly, yet in dire need of air. She settled against his neck, her arms still wrapped tightly around him, panting heavily.

Then she giggled against his collarbone. "God, I feel like a teenager again, making out in a car…" His hands were back on the outside of her sweaters, but stroked up and down her back, smiling at her revelation. "No…" she lazily added, letting one arm slide off his shoulder, "as I teenager, I've never felt this…" She struggled with the right word, while her fingers twirled idle circles over his chest. "Carefree." Yes, that was it. Despite all their fears, the past they shared and the mountain of problems, during this wonderful night, this magical moment, she felt exactly that. She was awed that maybe happiness could be possible for her, like this, after all. She snuggled closer to his collarbone. She felt content, a feeling she hadn't associated with herself for a long, long time. Happy, and carefree, and sated… and exhausted. She really, really wanted to kiss him again. But first she'd close her eyes… just for a minute or so…

Harm draped the blankets back over both of them, and cradled her close to his body, marveling at the myriad of emotions this woman created in him, while she grew limp in his embrace. The long day suddenly having caught up with her, Mac was asleep almost in a heartbeat.

_TBC_

_**AN:**__ The meteor shower 'Geminids' really exists. It appears every year in December; however, I had to move it two weeks. While normally, it occurs on the 12__th__ through 14__th__ of the month, for the purpose of this story it had to happen at the end of December, the 28__th__ to be exact. Writer's privilege, so magic could happen:-) All other information about Geminids is, to the best of my knowledge, correct._


	9. Ch9: Warmth

**Disclaimer: **For general disclaimer, see chapter one.

**AN: **Hey everybody – I'm finally back with this story!! Yes, even I am very excited about it:-)

I am really, truly sorry I left you all waiting for so long! Unfortunately, it couldn't be helped, as the last couple of months, I had to concentrate on real life stuff. As hard as that was, I had to ignore my writing urges, and this story was the innocent victim!

Thanks to everybody who has inquired about the story over the course of the last few months… your interest and enthusiasm are the best incentive imaginable!! Please enjoy!

**o o o o o o**

_**Chapter 9: Warmth**_

Harm woke up when he felt something cold nudging his neck. Slowly becoming more aware, he realized it was the icy tip of Mac's nose that was snuggled against his skin. She was fast asleep, her body snuggled under the blankets with her hands on his chest, fisted into his sweater. Their breaths formed small, translucent clouds in the pale, bluish tint of the starlit night, and he watched as they mingled and swirled together, becoming one, then rose and slowly dissipated in the cold, to be followed by the next.

Apart from her cold nose and cheeks, the rest of her body was warm on top of him, and he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. She was breathtakingly beautiful. For a while he just watched her as she slept, couldn't take his eyes off her dark eyelashes fluttering against her skin, the calm rise and fall of her chest, the sweet curve of her ear and tantalizing tilt of her mouth. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life waking up like this, with her in his arms. He had never believed the cliché, but now he knew it existed – she was the love of his life.

Unfortunately, his back more and more voiced its protest against his crouched position in the low seats of the Corvette, and as much as he wished he could hold her through the night like this, he realized it was both too cold and too uncomfortable for a car-sleepover. He extracted his right hand from around her waist and began stroking his fingers up and down her cheek and neck.

"Mac, wake up…" he whispered close to her ear, until she slightly stirred in his arms. "Sweetheart, it's one in the morning…" Her eyes fluttered slightly open at the same time as a slow smile spread across her face.

"Hmm…," she murmured sleepily, "01.13, actually…" He laughed softly at her great timing, even when she was still half asleep.

She pressed a tender kiss against the deliciously soft skin under his ear, then lifted her face up to his. "Can't we stay here tonight?" She sighed wistfully, knowing that they couldn't, yet finally laying in his arms still felt a little like a dream, and she was reluctant to let him go, to have that beautiful night end.

Harm trailed his fingertips up her spine, surreptitiously following the mountains and valleys formed by the bones, and felt her shiver, her back bending and moving in time with his ministrations. He felt a rush of breathless anticipation thinking of how she would react to his fingers on other parts of her body.

"Hmm…, he murmured close to her ear, "how about we continue this where we have more space…" Slowly, his fingers wandered back down her spine, and again he was rewarded with her soft squirms, her body rubbing enticingly across his. "…Under thick, downy blankets…" He kissed her earlobe, his voice turning lower and more raspy with every word. "…With _a lot_ less clothing…"

She lifted off his chest and looked up to his face, her gaze stunned and serious, piercing right into his conscience. God, what had he done now? He felt like a total jerk! He had just ruined a wonderfully romantic evening by making it all about sex, as if all his efforts had been orchestrated to seduce her. He had probably turned into the typical male right in front of her eyes. How was it that every time he opened his mouth with her, he inserted a whole shoe store?

"Oh Mac, I'm sorry… I didn't mean… Well, I did mean… But not…" He groaned, rubbed a hand across his face, then looked back at her.

"Mac, we can take…" Only then did he become aware of the huge, teasing grin that had spread across her face.

"Gotcha!" She giggled, softly poking him in the chest.

"Oh, I'll get you for this!" He threatened, laughter in his voice. He couldn't believe she got him going this easily! He brought his hands to either side of her waist and began tickling her thoroughly. She dissolved in more giggles and squirmed around, trying to get out of reach, but finding she had nowhere to escape to.

"That was mean, Marine!"

"I happen…" she pressed out between laughs, "to think… it was… funny!" He continued teasing his fingers along her sides, reveling in the fact that he hadn't seen her this relaxed and happy in a very long time, relieved that Mac slowly seemed to break out of her protective shell, and even a little proud that he could be the one to bring some joy back into her life.

She kept moving around on top of him, trying to escape his fingertips, when her middle suddenly met his just right. The jolt of electricity was instantaneous, shocking them both into immobility. Her legs clamped on either side of him, keeping the intimate contact close, and his hands stilled immediately, holding her in place. A wave of heat and desire rushed through his veins, and he was helpless to his body's reaction.

Keeping her hips molded to his, Mac leaned forward, running her hands over his chest and then wrapped them around his neck. She trailed a few kisses over his jaw, then traced her tongue across his lips. He slightly lifted his head, at once desperate to kiss her, but she raised her lips just a fraction away.

"All in good time, my love," she whispered against his mouth, her voice barely audible, yet the vibrations of it shimmying through his lips and into his mouth. "I promise…" Then she molded her lips to his and kissed him. Softly, deeply, thoroughly. Each stroke of her tongue, each nip of her lips a discovery, a beckon, a pledge. A kiss that belied the fiery desire that had just erupted between them, but spoke of infinite tenderness and caring. He didn't think he had ever been kissed quite this way before.

"Bring me back here one day?" She asked when they leveled off their kiss after a long while. Even she couldn't tell how long they had kissed, but she wasn't going to admit that to him just yet. She imagined how this would feel during a warm summer evening, under the stars, in the open corvette, just him and her, no blankets, no clothes… She felt herself blush; good thing that it was dark.

He nodded his assent, and she reluctantly climbed off his lap and out of the car. He followed and together, they folded the roof back over the car. Soon they were on their way back to Georgetown.

**o o o o o o**

She unlocked her door with him hovering right behind her, then turned back toward him.

"Thank you for this evening, Harm. I had a wonderful time."

Her smile was content and relaxed and a little wondrous, and he suddenly felt like the biggest man on earth, having made his Sarah happy. He leaned toward her, his nose giving hers an Eskimo kiss, then softly kissed her lips.

"Sarah, would you go out with me on Friday?"

Friday? Her mind did a quick calculation. But it was only Tuesday! She wondered what he might be up to, so she decided to play along. She teasingly trailed her index finger up his chest, then tapped it against his clavicle, a teasing twinkle in her eyes.

"Are you spending Wednesday and Thursday with your _other_ girlfriends, Harm?" She drew out the vowel in his name in a long, deep line.

Instantly, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her close against his body.

"I want to spend _Wednesday_…" At the mention of the weekday, he pulled her a little tighter against him, "with _you_…" He kissed her. "And _Thursday_…" Yet a bit tighter, "with _you_…" Another kiss. "But I want to _go out_ with you…" He stressed 'go out' and locked his eyes with hers, "on _Friday_."

She was still confused; what was so significant about…?

"Friday is New Year's Eve!" It suddenly occurred to her. He nodded, and she suddenly thought she was going to brim over with happiness. She smiled brightly up at him.

"Yes, Harm. I'd love to go out with you on Friday." Her mind immediately started calculating what she could wear. She needed something to truly dazzle… But then he kissed her again, deepening the kiss immediately, and all coherent thought flew right out her mind. God, could that man kiss!

When they had finally managed to say Goodnight, she closed her apartment door, then fell against it with her back. She found it impossible to take the goofy grin back off her face.

_TBC _


End file.
